


Speaking Of The End

by Destiels_Wayward_Sandwich



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Bisexual Dean Winchester, Case Fic, Castiel and Dean Winchester Use Their Words, Castiel/Dean Winchester First Kiss, Castiel/Dean Winchester Mutual Pining, Chuck is a dick, Cinnamon Roll Jack Kline, F/M, Fix-It, Fluff, Found Family, Happy Ending, Hope this doesn’t get buried, M/M, More tags as I add chapters, Sam Winchester Ships Castiel/Dean Winchester, Team Free Will 2.0 (Supernatural), The Winchesters Need to Use Their Words (Supernatural), and they do, cmon y’all I worked hard lol, heck canon, my perfect ending, starts just after season 15 episode 13, this is what canon should’ve given us
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-08
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:41:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 23
Words: 20,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26902282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Destiels_Wayward_Sandwich/pseuds/Destiels_Wayward_Sandwich
Summary: If supernatural is going to end, it’s going to end my way. This is how our boys should defeat Chuck.Or, the beginning, middle, and end of the end.*finished, and updates twice a week*
Relationships: Castiel & Dean Winchester, Castiel & Jack Kline & Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester, Castiel & Rowena MacLeod & Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester, Eileen Leahy & Sam Winchester, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester
Comments: 8
Kudos: 19





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay yall so I am not coping with the fact that supernatural is ending soon. To tell the truth I’m terrified of what the writers are going to do, so I decided to end it my way. This is a pretty long fic, but I tried to put every scene I needed to see inside it. I hope you enjoy!! and feel free to drop a comment with constructive criticism

“Please, forgive me.”

Jack was  _ drowning _ . 

Drowning in the words he hadn’t felt, in the ocean of feelings assaulting him now.

Why hadn’t he  _ gotten it?  _ Yes, he’d had no soul. But that was no excuse. No excuse for the terrible,  _ terrible _ things he had done. 

Through his eyes clogged with tears, he saw Sam look to Dean the way Jack once did. For answers, for guidance. 

Dean’s face was stony.  _ Of course, it is.  _ Jack thought.  _ You killed his  _ **_mom._ ** _ Why would he  _ **_ever_ ** _ forgive you? _

__ The thought only made Jack cry harder. He put his face in his hands, hiding from Dean, from his mistakes, from everything. He couldn’t believe… well, any of it. He had just  _ snapped  _ and  _ murdered  _ Mary Winchester and then went on a heavenly murder spree and then died at the hands of God himself. There was just so  _ much  _ to feel and now that he was able to feel it-

“Kid,”

Jack looked up. Dean’s expression had softened. 

“It’s okay.”

Dean continued talking, something about mistakes and learning, but the buzz in Jack’s ears made it hard to hear. 

_ It’s okay? _

He snapped back into focus when Dean took a slow step in his direction, arms outstretched. Jack got out of his chair and collapsed into his arms, relief pouring off him. Dean wrapped his arms around him tightly, and Jack sobbed into his chest. He felt smaller than he ever had, but he also felt safe. That was what family did. It protected you and kept you safe and forgave you. 

They were his family. 

…

“Thank you, Dean,” Cas said. 

“For what?”

They were sitting at the kitchen table. After he had been forgiven, Jack had retreated to his room. Sam followed soon after, saying something about going for a run in the morning. It was just Cas and one of his humans left awake. “For what you said to Jack. I know it wasn’t easy.”

Dean sighed deeply. “I just- I want to be better.”

“What do you mean?”

“I want to let go of grudges. Say the crap I need to before… y’know—” He gestured vaguely—“Everything.”

“I understand. It meant a lot to him, you know.”

“He's had it rough for a while. It was the least I could do.”

Cas shook his head but stayed quiet. He never quite knew how to tell Dean he didn’t need to do that. Didn’t need to put himself down like that. Maybe he’d figure it out someday. 

But for now, he settled for sitting with him, enjoying what might be one of the last quiet nights before... everything.

…

  
  


Dean stumbled out of his room. He and Cas had sat for hours last night. Though it had been awesome, he  _ really  _ needed some coffee.

He entered the kitchen to find Sam already there.  _ Of course, he is,  _ Dean thought.  _ He probably went for a run, too.  _ “Morning.”

Sam looked up from his computer. “Hey. I made coffee.”

Dean pointed at him as he poured himself a cup. “You’re awesome.”

They sat in silence, Sam tapping away, Dean downing his coffee. His family had grown and it filled him with a joy so indescribable he could barely comprehend it.

But mornings alone with his little brother were still something he treasured. 

“First cup gone?” Sam asked. 

Dean swallowed the last drops. “It is now. What’s up?”

“A couple died in Arizona last night.”

And so it began. With everything going on with Chuck it felt nice to fall back into the old routine. One of them would suggest a case. The other would deny it. They would check it out anyway. 

Dean recited his part of the script. “Hate to break it to ya, Sammy, but that’s a thing that happens.”

“But get this. They  _ froze  _ to death.”

“I’m not the best at geography, but that doesn’t seem like something that should happen.”

“Exactly. I’m thinking it might be a witch.”

Dean chuckled. “Maybe you could make a friend.”

Sam gave him his patented bitchface then turned back to his computer. 

“Sam-witch say what?” He muttered. He just couldn't resist.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Dean smirked. 

Sam wrinkled his eyebrows for a second, then continued talking. “Are we bringing everyone?”

“Yeah. Let’s get the whole Scooby gang on this. It’ll be a nice distraction.”

The conversation fizzled out as they both remembered what it was they were trying to distract themselves from. 

Chuck was still out there. Chuck was coming for them. He had orchestrated their entire lives and they were trying to fight him? Because it was their destiny? Wasn't  _ Chuck  _ the one who planned out destinies? The whole thing gave Dean a massive headache, not to mention a fairly large sense of impending doom. 

He was going to need more coffee. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean, Sam, Cas, and Jack arrive in Arizona to check out the case. Shenanigans ensue

“And who are you?”

Sam and Dean flashed their FBI badges. “We’re here to speak to the sheriff about the death of Mrs. and Mrs. Byrd.”

“Wasn't that just a freak accident?” The cop asked. 

“That’s what we’re here to find out,” Sam replied. 

She shrugged. “Sheriff’s office is just down the hall.”

They smiled their thanks and headed in that direction. 

The sheriff looked up as Sam and Dean walked in. “FBI?” He asked. 

“Yes sir.” The man’s desk was remarkably disorganized. There was a deck of cards strewn haphazardly across it, along with a collapsed tower of papers. 

“What’re you boys here for?”

“We’re looking into the deaths of the Byrds,” Dean answered. 

“Huh. Well, I don’t know how it could’ve been done, but my money’s on the ex-girlfriend,” The sheriff supplied, unprovoked. “Harper’s her name. She lives on Jacob Street.”

Dean gaped at him. He was not used to police being this helpful. 

Sam appeared to be thinking the same thing. “Um… thank you, sheriff.”

“Course. You boys be careful now.”

…

Cas ducked under the yellow tape, Jack just behind him. 

A tall woman approached them. “Going to have to see some ID.”

They pulled out their badges in one synchronized movement. The woman raised her eyebrows, and Cas looked down. Sure enough, both of them were holding their badges upside down. A powerful wave of deja vu ran through him as he flipped both badges the rightside up, and hastily put them away. 

“Long week?” The cop asked.

“You have no idea.” Jack’s weary words didn't match his cherubic grin. 

The cop nodded at Jack. “Didn’t know the feds babysat.” 

“Yes, he-”

“I'm definitely over three years old,” Jack assured.

She narrowed her eyes. “What division did you say you were from?”

“DC.”

“And why are you in Arizona?”

Cas was bad at lying. That was something he knew for a fact. Well, there was that one time where he had betrayed and deceived his friends, but he didn't particularly enjoy thinking about that. 

Dean was good at lying. He had been doing it his entire life. Whenever Cas needed to lie, he channeled his inner Dean, and hoped for the best. “Look, pal. Our supervisor sends us where he wants us.” 

Miraculously, it worked. She stepped aside, allowing the two of them to examine the scene. 

It was a parking lot, one that seemed to have not been used for a while. The bodies had been taken already. They split up, looking for any of the usual signs. 

“Time of death 7:45 last night.” The cop said, standing at his shoulder. “Bodies showed all the signs of hypothermia but-”

“But the temperature was over seventy degrees Fahrenheit,” Cas finished. 

“Exactly. Well, here. Call me if you find anything.” She held out a card. 

Cas took it, looking over the information. “Thank you… Stacy.”

“No problem.”

Cas resumed his search, but the lot seemed completely bare. “Jack, have you found anything?” He called over his shoulder. 

“I...think so. Can you come over here?” He walked over and examined the area Jack was looking at. He pointed to a lump in a sidewalk crack. “Isn’t that a-”

“Hex bag.” He confirmed. “I’ll tell Sam and Dean.”

…

The house was small, and it looked even smaller due to the remarkable amount of lawn ornaments on the ground. 

“Village crazy lady. Usually a murderer,” Dean said. Sam rolled his eyes, but Dean thought he caught a smirk. 

They knocked on the door. “Just a second!” A voice called. 

It was a few seconds before someone opened the door. A chaotic-looking woman opened the door. “Hello?”

“FBI. We want to talk to you about the death of Mrs. and Mrs. Byrd,” Dean said 

The woman put a hand to her mouth. “Jessie is  _ dead?  _ How? What-” she opened the door wider—“Here. Come in.”

The boys exchanged a look. Their faces each said what the other was thinking.  _ She doesn’t seem like a monster.  _

The woman led them to a couch and they sat down across from her. “So what happened?” She asked. 

“The couple froze to death,” Sam said, “Did you see the news?”

“No, I never watch it. It gives off too many bad vibes.” She ran a hand through her long hair, frazzled. “This is  _ Arizona.  _ How did they-”

“That’s what we’re trying to find out,” Sam assured. 

“Where were you between seven and ten two nights ago?” Dean added. 

The woman snapped back to attention. “What? Why? They  _ froze  _ to death, how-”

“That’s…  _ also  _ what we’re trying to find out.” Sam shot an annoyed look at his brother.

“I was at work. You can ask the manager if you want. I swear I would never hurt Jessie.”

“What about her wife? Would you hurt her? Sounds like there were some ‘bad vibes’ between you two,” Dean said.

Darcy? No! I mean sure, she isn’t...wasn't… my favorite person, but she made Jessie happy! I wouldn’t want to  _ kill  _ her. God, what kind of person would do that?”

“I think that’s all we need. Thank you for your time. Oh and-sorry for your loss,” Sam added. 

The woman nodded absentmindedly and the boys walked out. 

“Defensive,” Sam murmured, and Dean grunted his agreement. 

Sam’s phone began ringing. He picked it up and Dean gathered what he could from the half of the conversation he could hear.

“Yes?”

Sam’s mouth straightened into a thin line. “When?”

“On it, thanks.” He put the phone back in his pocket. 

“What’s up?”

“Another couple down in the last hour.”

Dean wrinkled his eyebrows. “We’ve been with her the whole time.”

“Yeah,” Sam nodded, “Looks like we’re back to square one.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Y’all are gonna like this one

“What did the hex bag look like?” Sam asked. After the false lead, he and Dean had headed back to the motel to meet with the others. 

“Oh! I can answer that,” Jack said. He reached into his pocket.

“Jack, you didn’t…” Cas trailed off. It appeared Jack had taken the hex bag with him. He held it in his hands, treating it less like the bomb Sam knew it to be and more like a random trinket. 

Everyone jumped back. Jack looked to Sam, head cocked to the side. “What?”

“You need to burn that!” Dean yelled. “It’s still armed!”

A blue light shot out of the hex bag. It branched into two like lightning, then surged toward where Dean and Cas were sitting. 

Cas shoved Dean out of the way and both lights hit him square in the chest. Sam leapt up, snapped his lighter open, and torched the hex bag. But the damage had been done. 

What damage, Sam wasn’t sure. Cas appeared startled, but overall fine. Dean jumped to his feet and put a hand on Cas’s shoulder. “You okay?” He asked frantically. 

Cas grunted, sitting up straight again. “Fine, I think.”

Dean looked him over, checking him for injuries. “You sure? Not…” he trailed off, jerking his hand away. 

“What is it?” Sam asked.

Dean said nothing, only pointed to Cas’s shaking hands. “He’s freezing.”

…

“What do you  _ mean  _ you don’t know how to fix him?” Dean whispered furiously into the phone. 

“What I  _ mean  _ is it’s a powerful spell and I can’t know what it did without seeing him,” Rowena explained again, “Samuel told you all of this already. I’m getting there as fast as I can.”

Dean stayed quiet, and a heartbeat later Rowena started speaking again, voice softer. “How is the lad?”

Dean was standing outside the motel room, pacing in front of the door. He peered inside to see Cas still covered in the blanket Dean had draped over him. Even through the cloudy window, Dean could tell he looked miserable. “Not great,” he answered, “Rowena, what if you can’t-”

“I  _ can _ , Dean,” She admonished, “I am the best witch alive.”

“You aren’t exactly-”

“Oh, shut it.” He could hear the smile in her voice. “Now. Go take care of your angel until I get there. Keep him warm. His grace should delay the process, and when I get there we’ll figure it all out, alright?”

“Alright. Thanks, Rowena.” He hung up and went back inside, trying not to dwell on how she had said  _ your  _ angel. 

Cas raised his head. “What did she say?” 

“She won’t know anything until she gets here. For now, we just gotta keep you warm.” 

Cas nodded and pulled the blanket tighter around himself. 

Dean wanted to say something that would make him feel better, but he’d never been one for words. Instead, he grabbed a blanket off his bed and rested it on Cas’s already covered shoulders, trying not to let his hands linger. 

Cas leaned into his touch and turned his head to face him. 

He looked like he had gotten worse. “Your teeth are  _ chattering.” _

__ Cas turned his head back around. “I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not. “C’mere.”

He cocked his head adorably. 

_ He is your best friend. Can we not do this right now.  _

Dean sat next to him on the bed. “Body heat. If it works for penguins it'll work for us.”

“Penguins?”

“Believe it or not, I paid attention to all those documentaries you made me watch.”

Cas smiled and inched closer to Dean. He put his arm over the blankets on his shoulders, and Cas sighed contentedly, tucking his head into Dean’s neck. “Warm,” he murmured into his throat, sending chills throughout his body. 

Dean laughed and squeezed him tighter, ignoring his own rapid heart ratebeat. 

_ Cas needs warmth. This isn’t about you, Winchester.  _

For some reason, the thought didn’t slow his thumping heart at all. 

Cas’s breathing gradually became slower until he was sound asleep, still lying on Dean’s shoulder. Dean tried to stay awake so he wouldn’t jostle the angel, but the steady rhythm of his breaths was almost hypnotizing. His head drooped until it rested on top of Cas’s, and his eyes fluttered shut. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We got some fluff and some angst right here bois. Sam ships destiel hella hard

Dean woke up when he heard the door opening, but didn’t move. He felt safe where he was. 

_ Well, that’s weird. Where the hell the hell am I? _

__ He cracked open his eyes and saw a mess of black hair. Everything came rushing back. Like how his best friend was in potentially fatal danger. 

And somehow that best friend had gotten onto Dean’s lap. 

Cas was curled up on his lap, head resting just above his chest. Dean was hunched over. His face was buried in Cas’s hair, and his arms wrapped tightly around him, asleep. How long had he been out? 

That and many other thoughts were sprinting through his head, some louder than others, but they all seemed unimportant next to his drowsiness. His back would hate him for it later, but right then Dean had never been more comfortable. 

“Look at them. They’re adorable. And you’re telling me they aren’t together yet?” A familiar Scottish accent asked. Dean shut his eyes again, trying to get back to sleep. 

Then he realized what she had said. 

“Not yet,” Sam answered. 

“Well, why not? Talk to him about it. He’s your brother, he’ll listen to you.”

Sam sighed. Dean could picture him running a hand over his face. 

His next words were quiet. Dean had to strain his ears to hear it. “It’s not that easy. Our father… Let's just say he wasn’t the most open-minded man. There’s probably a lot of internalized homophobia in there. I want to help him, but I think he needs to work through his feelings on his own.”

“Well he’d better do it soon. I’m getting tired of them staring at each other like it’s some greek tragedy.”

Sam chuckled appreciatively. 

Dean felt like he had when he had first discovered Carver- er,  _ God’s  _ books: like he was eavesdropping on his own life story. All his trauma and heartache left on a page anyone could read. 

Sam  _ knew? _

__ More than that. Sam knew and he was  _ fine  _ with it? Even  _ wanted  _ Dean and Cas to get together?

With his eyes still closed, A wave of emotions engulfed him. This was a secret he’d been sitting on for  _ so long  _ and they were just talking about it like it was a slightly exasperating joke? Like it was just a simple fact of life? Sam was talking about  _ him  _ like some kind of shrink analyzing his every move. 

But Sam seemed okay with it, didn’t he?

Dean had always hated keeping things from his brother. That was how they got into trouble. Sure, there were some things they didn't talk about much, but that wasn’t the same as actively hiding the truth. Whenever they hid stuff from each other, things would start to go bad. 

Granted, this wasn’t the kind of thing that could end a world or get someone killed, but it was still a pretty damn big thing. A big-ass part of himself. Every time he would think about telling Sam, he would remember the last time he tried to tell someone close to him. 

It had been his father, which, looking back on now, was a  _ terrible  _ idea. Dean had told him one of the boys in his class (it must’ve been what, third grade?) was cute. The exact words he used were “cute as hell” and at the time, he had felt like a badass saying it. 

John had already drank too much that night. He was barely coherent, and his words were slurred when he started talking. Dean was never able to get those words out of his head. 

“No son of mine is going to be kissing boys, you hear? Boys ain’t cute, boys are boys. I don’t want to hear those words ever again.”

And it didn’t matter that John was wrong, because even then Dean knew, at least partly, that he was wrong. That people should do whatever they can to be happy. No, it didn’t matter that John was wrong. What mattered was that Dean’s father looked him right in the eye and told him  _ he  _ was wrong. After that, Dean had never told anyone. 

But Sam knew. 

Sam knew and he didn’t even bat an eye. 

Love for his brother swelled inside Dean, soft and light. Sam was okay with Dean liking guys. Dean should’ve known that. Hell, Sam was okay with just about everything, as long as no one was getting killed. He was  _ Sam.  _ Always there for support and to supply gratuitous chick flick moments. His baby brother loved him for who he was. 

His thoughts were interrupted by Sam. “You think we should wake them up?”

“Yes, it’s about time I started the checkup.”

Dean heard footsteps, then felt a hand on his shoulder. He swatted it away, feigning drowsiness. 

“Dean, wake up. Rowena’s here.”

With great reluctance, he opened his eyes. His face was still smooshed into Cas’s hair. “Wake up, sleepyhead,” he mumbled, and Cas stirred. With even greater reluctance, he lifted his head as Cas moved back to look at him. His hair stuck up in every direction, and his face held a grumpy pout as if he had been in the middle of a nice dream. 

Sam cleared his throat. Dean realized he’d been staring. He looked away and Cas climbed off of him, taking the spot to his left. “Hello Rowena,” he grumbled, voice even huskier than usual with sleep. Not that Dean noticed or anything. 

Rowena and Sam exchanged a look, smirks barely concealed. “Hello, dear.” She took his hand in hers and mumbled a few syllables. Dean thought he saw her smile before she stood up straight. 

“ _ Mortem Gemina Corda _ .”

Dean refused to acknowledge the word  _ mortem _ , instead choosing to focus on the rest of it. Latin. A language he’d had to become pretty good with over the years. He felt like he’d heard the other two words before, but he couldn’t find where it was buried in his mind. 

Fortunately, Rowena explained. “Loosely translated, it means the death of the twin hearts. A spell that targets romantic soulmates.”

_ What.  _

__ Sam barely tried to cover his laugh with a cough. Dean couldn’t meet Cas’s eyes. 

“Castiel absorbed both spells, which is why it’s working fast,” Rowena continued. 

Dean has been so focused on the ‘soulmates’ thing, he had somehow forgotten the whole ‘death’ thing. “How do we fix him?” 

She shook her head. “There isn’t a countercurse. We have to kill the witch.”


	5. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I’m realizing I’m really bad at summaries. Eh, whatever. Step right up, folks!! We got ourselves some mutual pining, some fluffy fluff, and my personal favorite There Was Only One Bed!!

Sam and Jack went out to hunt for the witch. Dean had said he’d wanted to go, but Sam pointed out someone should stay with Cas and Rowena.

The pair left and Cas had not moved from Dean’s side. His face felt hot when he thought of how he had been literally on Dean’s lap, not to mention the spell he was under was a soulmate spell. Cas knew it was only because he had literally pieced Dean’s soul back together in hell, but his mind wouldn’t stop running in circles. He was too cold to try and get it in check. 

The cold was like nothing he had ever experienced. It was a living thing, biting and scratching and hissing to be set free. The blankets Dean had put on him helped a bit, but it was coming from the inside. 

Dean got off the phone with Sam. “They think it’s the sheriff,” He said, “He was accepting bribes and the vics were trying to expose him.”

Rowena hummed in acknowledgement from her spot on the other bed. Cas tried to smother a shiver.

“How are you doing, man?” Dean asked. 

“Fine.”

Dean put a finger under Cas’s chin and tilted his head up. Cas forgot how to breathe. 

“Your lips are  _ blue.  _ You aren’t fine.” He didn’t move his hand. 

“Well!” Rowena half-yelled. The boys snapped to attention. “I’m going to get some food. Sound good?” She was out the door in the blink of an eye. 

“That was… odd,” Cas remarked. Dean hummed in agreement. 

They sat in silence until Cas began shaking violently. 

“Jesus, man. Here. Get under the covers.” Dean moved from beside him and pulled the blanket away from the bed. Cas climbed in and looked at him expectantly. 

“What?” He asked.

“What happened to ‘be penguins?’”

Dean cleared his throat. “Cas, you sure you want-”

_ It’s  _ **_all_ ** _ I want. _

__ But he couldn't say that. Not to Dean Winchester, the Righteous Man, the man who saw Cas as a brother.

“I am freezing to death. I could care less about dignity at the moment.”

Dean shook his head, smiling that smile that made Cas’s heart jump, and climbed in next to him. He draped his arm just above Cas’s head. Cas instantly tucked himself into Dean’s side. 

They laid like that for a while, just breathing. Whenever Cas could no longer stifle his shivers he would feel Dean’s arm wrap tighter around him. Despite the temperature, it was wonderful. 

Cas heard Dean’s breathing begin to deepen. He mumbled something that Cas couldn’t quite catch. 

“What?” He asked. 

“I said you’re cute when you’re all sleepy,” Dean repeated, voice heavy with drowsiness. 

Cas froze, certain he had misheard. “...what?” 

But Dean had begun to snore.

Cas wanted to wake him up, ask him what the hell he’d just said. But he looked so  _ peaceful _ . Cas has been watching over Dean as he slept for years, making sure his nightmares didn’t get too unbearable. In all that time his face had never held such calm. He wondered briefly what could've caused that peace, but concluded it was inconsequential. It was there, and that was all that mattered.

For the second time that day, Castiel fell asleep curled up against the man he was in love with. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> :)

Dean woke up to a loud yell, quickly silenced. Instantly alert, he looked around for the source of the sound. There was a shape by the door of the motel room. It looked massive until Dean realized it was two people. A car drove by, and its headlights illuminated the scene.

A motionless Cas was being dragged away by a burly woman with a very large knife.

Dean was about to cry out when something heavy hit his head. He let out a choked gasp and everything went black. 


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We see what happened to our lovely friends here

Dean woke up pinned to a wall. He struggled, but whatever invisible force was holding him up didn’t budge.

“Hiya, Dean.”

Dean snapped his head in the direction of the familiar voice. Leaning against the wall was Chuck. A cold thrill of dread passed through him, followed by a bolt of white heart anger. “What do you want?”

“Me? Oh, well you know what I want, Dean. Ready to give up?”

Dean spat in God’s face. 

“Yep,” Chuck nodded, blinking saliva out of his eyes, “That’s what I thought. This story will be over soon, but before we get to the finale, I want to hit one more plot point. It’s one I’ve been working on for a while.”

They looked at each other for a long moment, glare of defiance meeting stare of indifference. Finally, Chuck said “Oh c’mon. You’re not going to ask what it is? I’ve written and rewritten this a  _ lot  _ of times, man. When I say it’s taken forever...” he trailed off, chuckling.

“Go to hell.”

Chuck smiled. “Not gonna happen. I’ll tell you what  _ is  _ going to happen though, but first a bit of prologue. 

“I’ve seen you and Sam kill each other loads of times. You guys, I know how you work. But did you know in every universe where you two meet, you and Cas end up falling in love? Every single one. That’s… that’s crazy. Some things  _ I  _ can’t even explain. I mean sure, sometimes one of you dies before it can happen, or both of you. But other than that? Lovefest. Why do you think that is?”

Dean was reeling.  _ Every  _ universe?  _ Every  _ time?

“Yeah. I don’t know either,” Chuck continued, “but I do want to find out before I start fresh. So here's the deal.” He snapped his fingers and a flickering image appeared. It was  _ Cas.  _ He was in a room much like the one Dean was in, crumpled in a heap on the floor. 

Dean went absolutely still. “What,” he said, dangerously soft, “did you do to him?”

“Oh, he’s alive. For now. I have a little experiment planned. This is how things are going to work. Whatever happens to one of you,  _ doesn’t  _ happen to the other. Meals, torture, everything.  _ Cas  _ doesn’t know that, though.”

“Why are you doing this?” Dean’s voice fractured in the middle of his sentence. Whether it was from anger or desperation, he couldn’t tell. 

God shrugged. “Because I  _ can.  _ I can do anything I want. Plus, I’m really curious about how long you’ll last.”

“How do I know you're telling the truth? That you won’t just… just hurt him either way?”

Chuck pointed at Dean. “Good point,” He waved a hand and the picture of Cas moved to the wall, “There. Now you have 24/7 video. Want some dinner? Or would it be breakfast? A midnight snack?”

“Give it to him.” Dean didn’t even have to think about the answer. Not with Cas’s grace levels as low as they were.

“That’s what I thought,” Chuck smiled. The glint in his eye sent a shiver down Dean’s spine. “Enjoy the show. I know I certainly will.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam finds out what happened to Cas and Dean. Chuck is a massive turd.

The door was unlocked. 

This wasn’t that weird, but Sam distinctly remembered locking it as he and Jack left. 

Whatever. One of them had probably gone out for something and forgot to re-lock it. Or they had gotten room service. Or Sam hadn’t even locked it, he was just remembering a different exit from a different motel. After so long, they all started to blend. 

Sam turned the knob silently and cracked the door open. 

Nothing. No one jumped out from any corners, no family members tied up. 

“What’s wrong?” Jack whispered from behind him. 

Sam nearly jumped out of his skin. He had forgotten Jack was there. “Nothing, it’s just quiet.” 

“Is that a bad thing?”

“No, it’s…” Sam shook his head. “I don’t know.”

He swallowed hard and threw open the door. 

At first, he was relieved. No dead bodies in sight. Always a good sign. 

But there weren’t any living bodies either.

All three of them were gone. 

Sam whipped out his phone. “Jack-”

“You take Dean. I got Cas.”

Sam nodded and pressed the call button. It barely rang once before it was answered. 

“Dean, where the hell are you?”

“Oh hey, Sam. I was wondering when I’d hear from you.”

_ No. _

He put the phone on speaker. “Chuck. Where are they?” Sam watched Jack’s eyes widen and though most of him knew they had to keep the nephilim hidden, the rest of him would've had Jack set the world on fire for the  _ smallest _ chance he could find Chuck’s charred corpse in the ash. 

“Cas and Dean? Yeah, they’re here. Say hi, Dean!”

Nothing. 

“I  _ said  _ to say hi, Dean.” Chuck’s voice had gotten softer, more dangerous. It was serrated, could cut anything that even looked at it, and the bastard  _ had his brothers _ . 

“Sammy,” Dean sounded reasonably alive, and Sam almost dropped to his knees in relief. “Poughkeepsie.”

“See? Told you he was fine. Maybe brain-damaged, but well, I’m not perfect. Tootles.”

“Chuck wait-”

The line went dead. 

Sam slammed the phone down onto the table. 

“We have to do something. I can go-”

“Jack, no. We need you. We’ll figure something out.”

Jack looked like he wanted to stomp off, and Sam almost wished he would. Just once, he wanted Jack to be able to be immature. 

But instead, he shoved his hands in his pockets, exhaling forcefully. “Poughkeepsie. Why did Dean say Poughkeepsie?”

“It’s one of our old code words. ’Means drop everything and run.” Sam shook his head. Of course, Dean was still trying to keep him out of the fight. 

That wasn't going to happen. Nobody, not even God himself, hurt Dean and got away with it.

…

“Knock knock!” Chuck said brightly. The door to Dean’s cell slid slowly open, but Dean couldn’t find it in himself to try and escape as Chuck walked in. “I have some fun planned for today.”

Dean briefly wondered exactly what day it was. One meal a day. Six for Cas, and one for himself when he couldn't take the hunger any more. Only a week? It felt like much longer than that. 

He was weak with hunger, but other than that, Dean was doing pretty well. Chuck seemed to be keeping his promise so far. Cas seemed miserable but okay. That was all that mattered. 

Chuck snapped his fingers and Dean’s gaze flickered over to him. “Are you even paying attention? Come on, Dean. You’re not giving up yet, are you?”

“Go to hell,” he grunted. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw something move on the screen. He didn’t think much of it -Cas had been pacing often- until he saw Chuck’s expression. His eyes were alight with excitement. 

“What did you do _?”  _ Dean asked, turning to the screen. 

Cas was no longer alone in the room. A terrifying looking man was standing in front of him. 

“Just watch the show,” Came the response. 

“Chuck, if you lay  _ one finger  _ on him-”

“Relax, Dean. He’ll be fine. Unless you decide to give up.”

Dean wanted to ask what he meant, but just then a voice came from the screen. Not Cas’s. The other man’s. 

“What is your plan to defeat Chuck?”

Dean laughed. “You really think he’s going to answer that?”

Chuck said nothing. Dean watched the screen intently. Sure enough, all Cas said was “Where’s Dean?”

It was the first friendly voice he’d heard in a week and his hands absently clenched into fists. He tried to ignore the pang in his chest. He hadn’t quite felt the distance between them until now. 

“Answer my question.”

“No.” Cas glared at the man. “If you hurt Dean-”

“See?” Chuck interjected, “lovefest.”

“Fuck off,” Dean spat. Chuck just laughed. 

“Time’s up.” The man reached behind him and pulled out a dull knife. 

Dean was on his feet, intending to lunge at Chuck, at the door,  _ anything _ he could do to save his angel. But Chuck just waved his hand lazily and Dean was seated in front of the screen again, like a child watching cartoons. 

The man lifted the knife high…

...and left it there. 

He didn’t bring it down on Cas, instead waved it toward the magic camera, and then set it down again. 

Dean let out a long breath. Then he heard Chuck moving behind him. 

Dean turned, finding he could move again. A mirror image of the knife that was in the other man’s hand now rested in Chuck’s. He took another step closer, brandishing the knife. It looked dull and rusty. “What are you doing?” Dean asked. 

“He wouldn’t answer the question. Unless you want to give  _ him _ the pain-”

Dean shook his head adamantly. Then he realized something. “You didn’t want the answer at all, did you?”

“Well, of course, I  _ wanted _ it. I just didn’t expect to get it. And,” he gestured to the screen, where Cas now sat alone, seething, “I was right. But you’re right too. The answer isn’t what this is about.”

Dean was frozen again. Chuck was inches away. He knelt and peered into Dean’s eyes. 

“Like I said. I have some fun planned.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sammy gets a lead. Dean gets angy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who’s left kudos, comments, and even just reading this at all. I spent a looong time putting it together, so it means a lot to me for people to see it! <3

“Okay,” Sam said, “and Eileen?”

“Yes?”

“ _ Thank you”  _ he signed. 

She smiled sadly and ended the call. 

Sam took a deep breath, putting his head in his hands. It had been a  _ week  _ and no sign of Dean or Cas. He had asked every hunter he could think of and  _ nothing _ . Eileen had called to say she was in the area and she had a potential lead. She would be there soon. 

As much as Sam hoped it was something, he knew Chuck wouldn’t be found unless he wanted to be. Unless they-

Sam shook his head.  _ We can’t. Jack has his role in all this and we can’t mess with it.  _

__ But he was  _ right there.  _ As he sat despairing Jack was in his room, still searching, like Sam should be doing. He sighed and got back to work. 

Or at least he would’ve if the phone hadn’t rang again. 

His heart jumped into his throat. Was it an update? Had someone found-

No. It was an unknown caller. “Hello?”

“EIGHTY THREE JOHNSON LANE. SEE YOU SOON. ” Sam dropped the phone in surprise. The voice was deep and jet-engine loud. He scrambled to pick it back up, hoping he hadn’t missed anything, but it was just the same message repeating. 

“Sam?” Jack called from the other room. “Are you okay?” 

With growing apprehension, Sam called back, “I think I found something.”

…

Chuck raised the knife, and almost faster than Dean could see, clawed it through his arm. 

He had been right. It was dull. The blunt sharpness dug into him and only released when Chuck yanked it out. Dean let out a grunt as pain jolted up his arm. 

“C’mon, Dean. You have to admit, this is a pretty interesting storyline.”

Dean decided then and there that he would not show Chuck he was hurting. Not a single sound. He wouldn’t give Chuck the satisfaction. 

Chuck positioned the very tip of the knife on Dean’s chest. Nowhere near anything important, but it didn’t have to be. He screwed it in, before hauling it out, bringing a fair amount of skin and blood with it. 

Dean didn’t make a sound. 

“Gosh, this torture thing is hard.” Chuck remarked. ”I mean, I’ve done it plenty of times before, but that was more from a distance, y’know? The flood, the plagues, the Beatles. I’ve inflicted a lot of pain over the years. But this is from up close. It’s harder. Why do you think that is?”

“I  _ think _ ,” Dean paused, breathing heavily, trying not to let the pain seep into his voice, “I think you aren’t doing this because you’re curious. I think you’re  _ mad _ because you found something you can’t control. You’re a  _ child _ , Chuck. A fucking  _ child _ who needs everyone to love him and everything to go his way.” Dean forced his mouth into a smirk. “Now that’s not happening, and you’re  _ scared _ . You want to turn tail and run like the coward you are. Don’t let me stop you. Door’s right there.”

Dean was released just in time for Chuck to pick him up by the throat and pin him to the wall. His eyes were wide and his lips were curled back in an honest to god snarl. “ _ I think you need to watch your mouth. _ ”

Dean only smiled. 

They stayed like that, eyes locked, Dean’s breathing becoming increasingly labored until Chuck suddenly released him. He collapsed to the ground in a heap, gasping for air. 

When he looked up, Chuck was leering down at him. His voice was filled with insidious pity. “You  _ really _ shouldn’t have done that, Dean.”

There was a whooshing noise. Dean looked at the door but it hadn’t moved. Then he turned toward the screen again, heart filling with dread. 

The man was back in Cas’s cell. Dean could see his wicked smile. 

“You see,” Chuck said from behind him, “My friend over there? He’s a  _ lot _ better than me at this whole torture thing.”

“We had a deal!” Dean yelled, panic rising with his voice. 

“Here’s the thing. If you piss me off? The deal can get... flexible. Sorry, should’ve mentioned that earlier.”

“Are you back to... not torture me again?” Cas asked the man. Dean mentally pleaded Cas to not rile him up. 

The man let out a chuckle, deep and menacing. Cas was thrown across the room by whatever magic Chuck had, so he was stuck spread-eagle on the wall. 

This time the knife didn’t miss. 

Cas let out a hoarse cry as the blade cut through his shoulder. 

“CAS!” Dean yelled. He strained against his invisible shackles, tugging so hard a trickle of blood ran down his face where a vessel had popped. It was no use. He wasn’t moving. 

“Yeah... he can’t hear you, you know,” Chuck commented.

“I am going to  _ rip your fucking throat out _ ,” Dean croaked, spitting every word. 

Chuck said nothing, electing instead to let Dean watch the show. Cas’s torturer raked the knife across Cas’s sternum, and Cas cried out again. 

Dean’s face was wet, but he couldn’t move his hands to wipe the tears. Only sit and sob bitterly as they flowed down his cheeks. As his wounds bled slowly. As Chuck gave commentary on every slash. As a cruel and twisted God carved into the man Dean loved, simply because he could.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A rescue mission is planned, big things happen

The abandoned warehouse loomed in front of them, a blight on the otherwise cheerful town. 

“Is this it?” Eileen asked. 

“It’s where Chuck said,” Sam answered without answering. After he had hung up the phone, he and Jack had looked up every town in the country with that address. It could’ve been any of them, but only one looked like it would house Chuck and some hostages. He got out of Baby and popped the trunk, handing Eileen a gun and grabbing one for himself, “Remember, this is a rescue mission. If you see Chuck, you get the hell out of there.”

Eileen nodded. Then she put a hand on Sam’s cheek. “They’re going to be fine, Sam.”

He put his hand over hers and smiled shakily. “They better be.”

The door to the warehouse was unlocked. Eileen and Sam traded a confused look, before opening it and going through. 

The deja vu Sam felt was indescribable. He had expected the warehouse to not look like a warehouse, but he didn’t think it would look like  _ heaven _ . 

The white hallway was brightly lit, with neat rows of doors on either side. It stretched much farther than a normal warehouse should’ve, and Sam was pretty sure he could see a name on each door. 

Aside from the obvious creepiness, there was something...  _ off _ about the place. The white walls were menacingly clean. The hallway was just  _ slightly _ too bright, and Sam realized there weren’t any actual lights illuminating it. The longer he stared the farther the hall seemed to go, an illusion that didn't help with his nerves. 

“ _ Weird _ ,” he signed, and Eileen nodded.

He took a deep breath and began walking. 

Upon further inspection, the doors all held plaques where the names should be, but all of them were empty. Sam was checking one side, while Eileen took the other. They were going slower than they should’ve, because Sam kept looking back to Eileen, making sure she was okay. 

She caught his glance at her and rolled her eyes. “ _ I can take care of myself _ ,” She signed. 

“ _ I know _ ,” Sam replied, trying to apologize with his expression. And he  _ did _ know, but that didn’t stop him from worrying. 

They continued, steps silent, guns ready. Sam was focused on his wall when he heard a soft “Hey,”

He looked over and Eileen was pointing to a door. 

Sam gasped when he saw it. It was marked,  _ Dean Winchester _ . 

There wasn’t a handle or a knob. It seemed to be automated. Sam fleetingly wished he had brought the grenade launcher. Then he noticed a keypad next to the door. He cocked his head, trying to think of what the combination might be. 

“Sam,” Eileen said. He turned around, and she was wearing the ghost of a smile. She stepped in front of him, pulled out her gun, and fired directly at the keypad.

The gun went off with a  _ bang,  _ then the door opened with a soft hiss. God, Sam loved that woman. 

“Sam?”

Sam looked into the room. Dean was slumped against the opposite wall, looking at him like he was a ghost. 

Dean was  _ alive _ . 

“Dean!” Sam whisper-yelled. He ran over and knelt beside him. “Can you walk?”

Dean grunted in affirmation. Sam hoisted him to his feet, noting the way he swayed slightly. “Is Cas here?”

“I- I think. Don’t know where though.”

Sam nodded, keeping an arm around Dean to hold him up. He didn’t protest the extra help. 

Eileen had stayed in the doorway, keeping guard. When Sam came out with Dean she pointed across the hall. “Does that say-”

“Cas,” Dean breathed. He broke free of Sam’s hold and staggered to the door, “How do you get this thing open?”

Sam handed his gun to his brother. “Keypad.”

Dean squinted at him, then seemed to understand. He shot the keypad. The door opened.

Cas was in a heap on the floor. 

“ _ No _ . He  _ promised _ ,” Dean muttered. He stood in the doorway, seemingly frozen. 

Sam was at Cas’s side in a second, shaking his shoulder. “Cas, you alright?”

Cas sat up, eyes wide. 

“Easy, easy it’s me. It’s Sam.”

Cas turned to him. “Sam? How did you- where’s-”

Then his eyes widened. “Dean?”

If the situation hadn’t been so dire Sam would’ve rolled his eyes. 

Dean dropped his eyes but nodded. 

Sam assessed the angel for injuries. He looked far worse than Dean, blood caked on his clothes, but he seemed more alert. Sam helped him stand, and turned to walk out the door, only to see Eileen held at knifepoint. 

“Eileen!” Sam yelled.

She grimaced and strained against the massive man’s hold on her. “I’m sorry,” she mouthed.

“Get your hands off of her,” Sam growled. 

“Take it easy, Sammy,” The voice didn’t come from the man. A shape stepped out from behind him. 

It was Chuck. 

“Chuck, get your slave away from her, you son of a bitch,” Dean’s voice was weak, but filled with venom. 

“Gosh, guys. I’m hurt! You think I’d hurt Eileen?”

None of them spoke. 

“Okay, you got me. But you think I’d hurt her before the final battle? It’s not her time yet!”

“What are you talking about?” Sam frantically searched the room for something he could use to get the man off of Eileen. But it was no use. The knife was at her throat and he couldn’t risk it. 

“I’m not going to fight you  _ here _ . That wouldn’t be any fun. Nah. You can complete your rescue mission. Besides,” he added, smiling in Dean’s direction, “I already got what I wanted from these two.”

“What does that mean?” Sam heard Cas say from behind him. 

Chuck crossed his arms, smiling. “It  _ means _ that you only got hurt because Dean here couldn’t hold his tongue.”

“That-”

Chuck held up a hand and Dean’s voice cut off. “I think we’re done here. See you soon.” 

He and his goon disappeared. 

The four stood, stunned. “Hey!” Eileen yelled, “Let’s get out of here.”

...

  
“Are you alright?”

“Fine.”

Cas raised his eyebrows at that. Even though he looked worse than Dean did, Dean was the one who was malnourished, not to mention severely dehydrated. Cas had come into his room offering another glass of water, which Dean had gratefully accepted. “What did Chuck mean, you couldn’t hold your tongue?”

“I don’t know, man.” Dean knew if he told him the truth, Cas would blame himself.

“Yes, you do.”

Dean sighed. As much as he didn’t want to tell him, he couldn’t lie. It seemed the interrogation was inevitable. “He told me from the beginning if I got tortured you wouldn’t. They were asking you questions and hurting me when you didn’t answer. I got cocky, started taunting him. And then...” he trailed off, jaw clenched. “I’m sorry, man.”

“Chuck tried to make a deal with you, and you  _ believed  _ him?”

“What choice did I have? Besides,” Dean continued, gesturing to Cas’s mostly okay self, “he wasn’t lying.” He gave a hesitant smile that dropped when he saw Cas’s expression. He was  _ livid.  _ “What?”

“How could you be so  _ stupid?” _

__ Dean did a double-take. “What?” he said again.

“You are one of two people who can  _ kill God _ . How could you risk your life like that?”

“Cas, I-”

“No, Dean. You need to listen to me. I know you feel you need to save everyone. But the world is more important. You can’t just go around throwing your life away!”

“I did it for you.”

“That’s even worse!” He yelled. Dean couldn't remember the last time he had seen him so mad. “I have next to no grace left. I’m useless in the fight against Chuck. What if Sam and the others hadn’t come when they did? You would’ve… you would've  _ died _ for nothing?”

“You aren't nothing.” Dean’s choked out, for once not trying to mask the emotions he couldn't pretend didn't exist.

He didn't respond.

“Cas,” Dean whispered, “Is that really what you think you are?”

Cas looked to the side, mouth straightening into a line. “I’m a broken tool, Dean. A gun that can’t fire.”

Dean’s head was spinning. 

_ How could he think that?  _

_ He means the goddamn  _ **_world_ ** _ to me and he thinks he’s nothing? _

His bewilderment turned to shame when he realized he was part of the reason Cas felt that way. Hell, maybe even the whole reason. “Cas, I didn’t... I thought... man I’m so sorry. I didn't do what I did because I was trying to sacrifice myself. I did it because I  _ need _ you, man. I need you to be okay. 

“When I thought I lost you in Purgatory... before I got to tell you... Cas that was... I can never do that again, okay? You are  _ not _ useless. You are  _ not _ worthless. I  _ need _ you, and I’m so fucking sorry I couldn’t get my head far enough out of my ass to say so. I’m so fucking sorry I made you think that you didn’t matter because you  _ do _ . Sam and Jack and Eileen and Rowena and everyone who ever even frigging looked at you could tell you what an amazing person you are. Grace or not, I still...” Dean bit his tongue a moment too late. He prayed Cas wouldn’t notice. 

But of course, he did. “You still what?”

“You said you heard my prayer in purgatory. What did you hear, exactly?”

“You said you were sorry, and that you forgave me,” Cas recited, “That you get angry sometimes and you can’t stop it. Dean, what does-”

“There was one thing I didn’t get a chance to say. And I’m going to say it now because we’re probably not going to survive the whole Chuck thing.”

Cas opened his mouth, probably to protest, but then closed it again. 

Dean took a shaky breath. “I love you, Cas.”

And there it was. The words that he’d hid from himself for years, that he’d hid from everyone else for even longer. 

It felt weird hearing it out loud. Not foreign, actually more the opposite. It felt like he’d been saying it for years _.  _

Cas blinked. “I love you too. You know that.”

Dean wished more than anything that he could pretend Cas meant it the same way he did. But he wasn’t going to do that. That wouldn’t be fair to either of them. 

Dean shook his head. “No not... Cas, not like that. Like... every day, every  _ goddamn _ day I think about holding your hand and taking care of you when you’re sick and watching stupid movies with you and falling asleep on your shoulder and everything else that couples do because I love you like  _ that _ . It scares me, sometimes. How much I want all of those things.” He shook his head. “Sorry, I... I’m rambling. But I just- I just couldn’t let you get hurt. I wasn’t trying to be a martyr but I couldn’t watch them hurt you. I’m sorry I was reckless but... I just  _ couldn’t _ , man.”

Dean couldn’t meet Cas’s eyes. It was quiet for an agonizingly long moment, and then “You… love me?”

Dean kept his eyes firmly on the ceiling, trying to ignore the panic slowly rising. “Look I know you don’t feel the same way and it’s  _ fine _ , Cas, that’s-”

He trailed off when he felt Cas’s hand cup his cheek. He gently turned Dean’s head so their eyes met. He was  _ close, _ maybe a foot away. He was making that face that Dean could never quite believe was directed at him. It held so much love and Dean had hoped but he had never thought-

And suddenly, Cas’s lips were pressed to his.

They were gone in a moment. Before Dean could think of what to say, Cas squeezed his hand. “Get some rest,” he ordered.

Then he was gone, leaving a stunned Dean behind him

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So episode 18 huh?? Who would have freakin thunk??? I’m dying, personally. (Trying to be vague so I don’t spoil for anyone). Anyway hope you liked it


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean tries to understand what the hell just happened. So much fluff.

Sam was sitting at the table, looking at his computer. No one else was around. Dean sat down next to him, setting two beers on the table. “Hey.”

Sam looked up, seemingly surprised to see him. “Hey. Thanks. How’re you feeling?”

“Better. Thanks for the pie.” 

Sam smiled. “That was Jack’s idea, actually.”

“Love that kid.”

He had done enough small talk. He needed to get this off his chest. He took a deep breath, a deeper swig of beer, and- “I heard you talking with Rowena.”

“What?” Sam asked. 

“The witch case. You two thought Cas and I were asleep.”

Sam slowly closed his computer. “...What did you hear?”

“Why didn’t you tell me, man?” Dean blurted. 

“Tell you what?”

“Why didn’t you tell me you know I like dudes?” The words came out in a hurry, tumbling over each other. They poured out of his mouth and he couldn’t have stopped them if he wanted to. 

Sam sighed, fidgeting with his beer. “Dean, I’m sorry. I wanted to talk to you about it but I thought it would make you get all weird.”

“What do you mean, ‘all weird?’”

“That thing you do whenever you don’t like a situation. You shut down and avoid it.”

“I don't do that.”

Sam said nothing, only gave his patented bitchface.

Dean relented. “Alright, fine. I might do that. Sometimes.”

Sam chuckled, then paused. “So... is this you coming out?”

Dean decided to just go for it. This was his brother. His baby brother who had been there for him through everything. He could trust him. “This is me telling you Cas  _ may _ have just kissed me, and now I don’t know what to do.”

Sam gaped at him. 

And then he  _ laughed _ . 

He threw his head back and  _ hooted _ , loud and deep, like a goddamn gorilla. Dean hadn’t heard that noise come out of Sam since... he couldn’t even remember. 

He’d  _ missed _ it. 

He knew the laugh wasn’t at his expense, but even if it had been he didn’t think he would’ve minded. 

“Oh, man,” Sam said, wiping his eyes. “This is funny.”

“What’s so funny about it?” Dean asked, pretended to be indignant. 

“ _ You’re  _ asking  _ me  _ for relationship advice. You taught me everything I know about that crap.” Sam took a sip of his beer. 

Dean smirked. “And yet you’re the one with a girlfriend.”

Sam inhaled sharply, choking. It was Dean’s turn to laugh as he slapped his brother’s back. Once Sam recovered he looked at Dean. “I was going to tell you but-”

“But I got kidnapped.” Dean finished. “I’m not mad, Sammy. I’m proud of you.”

“Really?”

“‘Course. I love Eileen. She’s awesome.” And he was telling the truth. Dean really did think she was perfect for his brother. 

Sam smiled at him. Suddenly, all Dean could see was the eight-year-old with a bad haircut who idolized his big brother. 

He put a hand on Sam’s shoulder. “So. What the hell do I do now?”

“Well does he know you like him?”

Dean cringed slightly. “Definitely.”

“And here I thought you hated chick flick moments,” Sam laughed.

Dean wasn’t laughing. “Dude. Really. What the hell do I do?” 

Sam widened his eyes. That bastard was enjoying this. “Have you considered talking to him?”

“We know how good I am with words.” Dean protested. 

“And he’s better?”

Dean hadn’t thought of that. “Your point?”

“I’m just saying that Cas probably has no idea what to say, either. And unless you want to pretend nothing happened…” he trailed off. 

Dean shook his head vehemently. He couldn’t pretend anymore. 

“Then just say what you feel,” Sam continued, “just… get it out.”

“Just ‘say what I feel?’” Dean repeated skeptically. 

“Yup.”

“Alright.” Dean stood up and turned to leave the room. 

“Dean?” Sam called. 

Dean looked over his shoulder at him. “Yep?”

“Sock on the door.”

“Shut your face.” He turned again and walked out of the room. He could hear Sam’s laughter through the door as he headed to Cas’s room. 

**…**

Cas was contemplating his life choices -well, one choice in particular- when he heard the knock on the door. 

“Yes?”

Dean poked his head in the door. “Can I come in?”

Cas stifled his surprise and answered, “of course.”

Dean stood in the doorway awkwardly. After a second Cas scooted to the side of his bed, and Dean sat next to him. 

Cas perched, paralyzed as he waited for Dean to say something. He knew exactly what was coming. 

_ It was a mistake.  _

_ I didn't mean it like that. _

_ I don't want you like that.  _

__ He hadn’t even thought Dean would acknowledge what had happened between them. Whenever Dean was uncomfortable with a situation, he pretended it wasn’t there. He would push it down and ignore it. Cas didn't expect anything different from this scenario. 

So he was fairly surprised when Dean said “I meant everything I said, you know.”

Cas nearly gasped aloud. That was  _ not  _ where he thought that was going. “As did I.”

“So…” Dean rubbed his arms, tapped his foot. “So what are we?”

“A hunter and an angel?”

“No, I mean-” Dean waved his hand where Cas was looking, making him look to his face. “ _ I _ don’t want to pretend none of that happened. I… I love you, Cas. What do  _ you _ want?”

Cas stayed quiet for a long moment. Anyone else would’ve pressed him for an answer, but Dean knew him well enough to know he was forming the best answer he could. “Do you know I can see souls?”

“Really?”

“Yes. Every human’s soul is unique and wonderful in its own way, but Dean, your soul is the most beautiful I have ever seen.”

Dean chuckled, then saw Cas wasn’t joking. An expression came onto his face that Cas had never seen before. His eyes dropped and his mouth quirked up at the edges. Dean Winchester was  _ blushing.  _ “All I want is to be near your soul until the very end.”

Dean stayed quiet, and Cas noticed he hadn’t exactly answered the question. “I want us to be together if that wasn’t clear.”

Dean’s shoulders dropped, and his breath came out in a huff of relieved laughter. “You  _ scared  _ me, man!”

“That wasn’t my intention,” Cas laid his head on Dean’s shoulder. 

He shivered when Dean pressed his lips into his hair. “S’alright.” He mumbled. 

They sat in blissful silence, reveling in dreams finally coming true. 


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A plan is formed

It was the next morning. Sam was sitting with Dean at the kitchen table, nursing a cup of coffee. He hadn't seen Dean or Cas for the rest of the night, and he assumed that was a good thing. Sam still couldn’t believe they had finally gotten their heads out of their asses. 

“Dean?”

Dean continued staring into space. 

“Dean? You there?”

He jumped and looked at Sam. “Yep?”

“You good? You seem pretty out of it.” He tried to sound sincere, but he couldn’t quite wipe the shit-eating grin off his face.

“Just thinking,” Dean grunted, clearly hoping to avoid Sam’s teasing. 

He should’ve known that wasn’t going to happen. “Yeah, how is your new boyfriend? I assume that’s what you’re thinking about. It’s about damn time, by the way.”

“Bite me.”

“No, but he will.”

Dean smacked him upside the head, but couldn’t stop a laugh from escaping his mouth and joining in with Sam’s. Everything felt so  _ light.  _

“So what were you saying?” Dean asked, in a hurry to change the subject. 

“Oh, yeah,” Sam cleared his throat, “I was thinking- what if we asked Amara for help?”

“ _ What?” _

“No, hear me out. She kind of hates Chuck, right? And she’s the only thing as strong as him. What if we just ask her to... y'know.” Sam trailed off, afraid to even say it. 

“Kill her brother?” Dean didn’t have the same fear, apparently. 

“Well, he did keep her trapped for millennia.”

“And then what? Won’t ‘the cosmos be out of balance?’” Dean air-quoted.

“And then we can kill her too.” Cas walked into the room, taking the seat behind Dean. 

“How?” Dean asked.

Sam didn’t want to think about that right then. “One problem at a time?” He appealed. “I think Cas’s right.”

“I don’t like it.” Dean insisted. 

Cas rested his arm against Dean’s. “I don’t like it either, but what other choice do we have?”

“Alright, fine.” Dean ran a hand down his face. “So what? Do we just… call her?”

Cas nodded. “She’ll hear you. She might not respond, but she’ll hear you.”

Dean looked at the ceiling, raising the arm that wasn’t connected to Cas sarcastically. “Hello? Amara? We need your help.”

Sam waited. Nothing happened. Then he jumped as Amara appeared on Dean’s other side. “For what?” She asked. 

Sam considered the best way to phrase their request. If they said it wrong, they might lose any chance of her helping. 

“We need to kill Chuck.” Dean blurted. 

Sam winced, bracing for verbal -or literal- impact. 

“Awesome. I’m in.”

Cas widened his eyes. “You  _ what _ ?”

“I’m in. I hate him. He thinks he’s better than me. Plus the whole ‘destroying everything’ thing.”

“...really?” Sam asked, still not over the initial shock. 

“Yes. So who will be the new God?”

Sam thought she was speaking a different language at first. He simply couldn’t understand what she was saying. 

Amara figured that out. “We can't have things unbalanced. Darkness without light will be the end of everything. I thought you all knew that.”

The hunters and angel gaped at the Darkness. Sam tried to recover the conversation. “We... we do. But there is--there can be-- a new God?”

“Of course. Don’t tell me you didn’t know that.” 

Sam looked down, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw Cas and Dean doing the same. 

“Huh.” She said. “Okay. Call me when you have someone.” Amara disappeared, her words still hanging in the air.

…

“It should be you,” Dean said. 

Sam hummed in confusion, not quite listening. 

“We need a new God, right? Who better than you?” Dean elaborated. 

“What?” Dean had his full attention now. The phone was down and Sam was wide-eyed and incredulous. 

“You heard me.”

“Dean, I’m not...” Sam stammered. “I couldn’t. I’m not good enough for that.”

“Bullshit.” 

“It’s not bullshit, Dean. I’ve done too much wrong. I can’t-”

“You’ve always been the brains of this operation.” Dean barreled on through his brother’s protests. “You’re a planner. Remember when all the people from Earth 2 were in the bunker?”

Sam stared at him, waiting for him to continue. Dean stared back, and he realized he expected an answer. “...Yeah.”

“You took care of them, Sammy. You were their leader. When I saw you taking care of all of those people I-”

And then Dean’s voice  _ broke _ . 

He clenched his jaw, looked skyward, then continued. 

“I saw my baby brother all grown up. I saw what you were born to do.”

Sam tried to think of a way to show how much the words meant to him. Dean was many things: a hunter, a legacy, a hero. But above all, he was Sam’s big brother. The man Sam cared about more than anything and had looked up to since he opened his eyes. “I learned it from you, you know. You  _ raised _ me, Dean. You taught me everything I know.”

Dean wiped his eyes and clapped Sam on the shoulder, clearly done with the sentimentality. “So what do you say? Maybe grow your beard back, you’ll look even more like Jesus.”

Sam opened his mouth with no idea of what he was about to say.

Thankfully, he was interrupted by a person appearing out of nowhere. After the initial heart attack, he realized it was Billie. “Sorry to interrupt the touching moment, but Sam will not be the new God.”

_ Oh thank God _ , Sam thought, somewhat ironically. 

“Why not?” Dean asked, tense from the surprise arrival. 

She rolled her eyes like the answer should be obvious. “To be God, you have to be able to contain a significant amount of power. Much as I would love to see a Winchester explode, I have a feeling that’s  _ not _ the outcome you two are looking for.”

“So who are you suggesting?” Dean demanded. Yourself?”

“No. I’m far too powerful.” She said simply. “If I became God the forces would be out of balance. I’m suggesting the only other incredibly powerful being you know.”

Sam heard Dean inhale sharply. “He’s just a kid, Billie.”

_ Oh _ .

She meant  _ Jack _ .

“An extremely powerful ‘kid,’” she retorted, “who has a job to do.”

“I don’t like it,” Dean said for the second time. 

Sam considered. Out of everyone, everyone in the whole world, who would be the best God? Certainly not himself, no matter what Dean might say. The only people he could think of were Mister Rogers…

And Jack. 

“Look,” Sam reasoned. “I know you haven’t had the best relationship with Jack in the past, but he can do this.”

“Of course he can do this.” Dean agreed. 

“Then what are you-”

“He’s a  _ kid, _ Sammy!” Dean slammed his beer bottle onto the table. It hit with a  _ thud _ and drops of beer flew. “Jack is too young for all this. He should be going to parties and failing tests and making friends and being a goddamn  _ kid!  _ No kid should have a world sitting on their shoulders.” His voice was low, and shaking with emotion. “It isn’t right.”

Sam inhaled slowly. 

So  _ that  _ was what this was about. 

“Look I know you don’t want Jack to go through what you did, but-”

“Don’t you  _ dare  _ say I’m trying to make this about myself.”

“Dean that’s not what I’m trying to say.”

“Then what are you trying to say,  _ exactly _ ?”

Billie cleared her throat. “This isn’t your choice to make.”

She was right. 

They needed to talk to Jack. 


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They ask Jack, and begin to form a plan.

Cas knocked on Jack’s door. 

“Come in!” Jack called brightly. 

Jack seemed surprised to see all of them there. “What’s going on?”

“What are you up to?” Dean deflected. 

Jack smiled sheepishly. “I  _ was _ learning sign language, but I got distracted. Have you seen those videos of cats and dogs being friends?”

That was when it hit Cas. They were about to ask this  _ child _ to do something no one had ever done. Something no one had ever even considered. 

Sam cleared his throat. “We need to talk to you.”

“Okay. What is it?”

Cas looked to either side, but neither Sam nor Dean seemed excited to take the lead. Well,  _ he _ certainly wasn’t going to do it. 

Sam must’ve realized that because he began talking. ‘We might’ve found a way to defeat Chuck.’

Jack’s eyes widened. “Really? How? What do you need me to do?”

Another long silence. Cas couldn’t take it anymore. He had to say something. “We need you to become God.”

In hindsight, that was probably the wrong something. Jack was looking at him like he had grown another head. 

Sam shot Cas a look. “If we kill God, the forces will be unbalanced. But if we have a new God...“ He trailed off. 

“Then the balance is restored,” Jack finished, “It has to be someone who can hold a significant amount of power,” Cas explained. “Billie said it’s your destiny-” 

“But we aren’t going to make you do anything. It’s your choice.” Dean interrupted. 

Jack was like Cas in a lot of ways. It was something that made him quite happy. One trait they shared was a penchant for silence. Jack stared into the middle distance, thinking. Finally, he said, “If it’s the only way to stop Chuck, then... yes.”

“Wait, really?” Sam blurted. 

“Yes,” Jack said matter-of-factly. “It’s my job. I have to. So... what do I need to do?”

Dean held up his hands. “Wait a second. This is  _ God _ we’re talking about. At least take the night to think it over.”

“Dean’s right.” Sam sighed. “We’ll talk again in the morning. Just- think about it. Okay?”

…

“Jack, are you sure?” Dean asked again. He’d been doing it all morning. Eileen couldn’t blame him. The kid looked petrified. 

But his answer was always the same. “Yes, Dean. I’m sure.” This time he added, “We should probably call Amara.”

“He’s right,” Cas said. “Is everyone ready?”

One by one, the hunters nodded. 

“Alright.” He said. “Amara? We found someone.”

He looked to the left. Amara had appeared next to Jack, her eyebrows raised in question. 

“Me,” Jack said. 

There was a heartbeat, then Amara nodded. “Good choice.”

“Now your end of the bargain. Kill Chuck.” Cas stared intently at her, waiting for her to make a move. 

“Oh, I can’t do that,” Amara said. 

" _ What _ ?” Eileen snapped. Sam laid his hand on her arm, a warning.  _ This is an incredibly powerful being you’re talking to here. _

She didn’t care. This bitch had promised them help. 

Amara held up her hands in a ‘wait’ gesture. “I can’t hurt him  _ directly _ . Goes against the laws of nature. But I  _ can _ still help.” She raised her hand high and a blinding light flashed. When she brought it back down again there was a sword resting in her palm. It looked like it had been pulled out of every fantasy movie ever, but something about it was different. The colors were just slightly  _ off  _ and Eileen couldn’t quite see the edges of it. 

Out of the corner of her eye, Eileen saw Dean push off from the pillar he was leaning on. “A sword? That’s it?”

“This isn’t just any sword.” Amara retorted. “This is the only known weapon capable of killing God.”

The words sent a thrill of awe down Eileen’s spine. The  _ only _ weapon. But it was just a sword. “So what?” She asked. “You just swing it at him and-” she put her fists in front of her chest, one in front of the other, and pulled them apart, hands opening. You didn’t need to know sign language to figure that one out.  _ Explode _ . 

Amara looked at her. “Not exactly. First, you have to collect souls to put in the sword. The more souls, the more powerful.”

“How many do we need?” Sam asked. 

“With Jack wielding it, you shouldn’t need very many.”

“Who said anything about Jack wielding it?” Cas asked. 

“Only someone with divine power can use this sword.”

“I have divine power.”

Amara scoffed. “Barely. Do you want to spontaneously combust?”

Cas glared at her. Dean put a hand on his shoulder. “Nobody is combusting. Jack, you up for it?”

Jack nodded.

Dean clapped his hands together. “Awesome. Let’s go visit Rowena. She probably has too many souls down there anyway.”

“Oh no,” Amara said. “The souls have to be living.”

Dean looked flabbergasted, which was exactly how Eileen felt. “I thought you were done snacking on souls!”

“Oh, I am. This isn’t eating. It’s more like...  _ borrowing _ . You put some souls in, and if all goes well, they come out at the end and Chuck’s gets trapped inside.”

“And if it doesn’t all go well?” Sam demanded. “The people are soulless forever?”

Amara cocked her head at him. “The souls are still attached to their owners, just being held somewhere else. If it doesn’t work, they would die. Jack can tap into their strength if he’s running low on power. Every soul’s body will undergo the same punishment as Jack’s, plus some more if they are human souls. If Jack twists an ankle, the others get a bad sprain. If Jack is killed....”

Cas took a deep breath. “Then the souls die as well. Jack, I’m not saying you can’t defeat Chuck, but are you sure-”

“It’s too big a risk.” Jack interrupted, nodding. 

Everyone turned to Dean incredulously. He had said something Eileen didn’t catch. Whatever it was he had said, it was clearly not liked. Knowing Dean, it was probably him trying to sacrifice himself again. 

Sure enough, he continued speaking. “We need souls for this to work. I have a soul. Let’s do this.”

“Dean, wait.” Jack was too young to have the pained expression he was wearing. “I don’t think we  _ should _ do this.”

“Then what should we do? Jack, I don’t like it either, but what else is there to do?”

“I’m in,” Sam said. 

Eileen’s blood went cold. 

“Sammy, are you  _ sure _ ?” Dean asked. 

Sam nodded grimly. 

Dean glanced upwards, tightened his jaw. Then he nodded. “Okay.”

This was a suicide mission her boyfriend just agreed to. One thing was for sure. He wasn’t going to die on her watch. “And me.”

Sam opened his mouth to protest, then stopped when he saw her wobbly smile. “What did I say about letting me take care of myself?” She teased. 

To her relief, Sam agreed. 

“Alright,” Dean said, standing up. “I need a beer. Anyone else?”

Everyone raised their hand. 

He laughed sadly. “Five beers it is. Be right back.”

…

Cas followed Dean into the kitchen. Dean smiled when he saw him. “A little help here?”

Cas grabbed a couple of beers from his hand. “Is there any way I can convince you not to do this?” He asked softly. 

Dean shook his head. “Man, I’m sorry, but I gotta do this.”

He nodded. “Then I’m doing it too.”

“What? No. Not happening.” 

“Yes, it is.” Cas insisted. “Another soul will only help.”

“Yeah but your grace is almost gone. You’re almost human.”

“ _ You’re _ a human. Sam and Eileen are humans.”

Dean laughed mirthlessly. “And we’ve been human for a damn long time.”

“So you don’t think I’m strong enough.” He felt bad about guilting Dean into letting him do this, but he’d feel much worse if something happened to him because Cas didn’t help. 

“No, Cas that’s... that’s not what I’m saying.”

“Then what  _ are _ you saying?”

“I’m saying I…” He swallowed hard, then continued. “I can’t let you get hurt again.”

Cas’s heart broke. Dean still blamed himself for what happened with Chuck’s experiment?

Of course, he did. If anything ever went even the slightest bit wrong, Dean would find a way to make it his fault. Cas didn’t blame him for that -it wasn’t his fault life had put him through hell- but it was frustrating to see someone he cared about this much constantly beating himself up. 

Cas put both beers in one hand and squeezed Dean’s with the other. “I love you too, Dean. But that’s not your choice to make.”

“I know,” He whispered. 

They came back with the beers, ironically more sober than before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone else wants to rant about canon right now just drop a comment because I’m sure we all have a lot of feelings right about now


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean gives Jack a pep talk. Very fluff.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of planning. Amara left with nothing more than ‘good luck.’ Rowena would be there in the morning to help prepare the spell for the sword. Their four souls would have to be enough because Dean refused to put anyone else in danger. They had all tried to go to sleep.

That was three hours ago. The clock read 1:37 and Dean was staring at the ceiling, wide awake. His brain was running a mile a minute, and, finally, he couldn't take it anymore. He got up to get a snack. 

As he approached the kitchen, he heard something moving around inside. He opened the door and peered in, but it was only Jack. He was probably there for the same reason. 

Then Dean saw his shoulders shaking.  _ Is he crying? _

__ He cleared his throat as he walked in, and Jack looked up. He  _ was  _ crying. His red-rimmed eyes were wild and panicked. 

Dean took the seat next to him, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Hey. Hey, it’s okay. What’s wrong?”

Jack recoiled at his touch, and Dean pulled the hand away. Jack’s breathing was heavy, and Dean finally understood. “Just breathe, okay? In and out.”

“What- what’s happening?” Jack choked out.

“Panic attack. Just keep breathing.”

“No… no I’m dying.”

Dean knelt in front of him. “Look at me, kiddo. I know it feels like that, trust me I do. Just in and out. You can’t die if you’re breathing.”

He crouched like that until his legs were sore, as Jack’s breathing finally slowed. “You okay now?” He asked. 

“I can’t,” Jack whispered.

“You can’t what?”

“ _ Everything.  _ I want to help and I want to save the world but I  _ can’t.  _ I can’t do it, Dean.” Jack’s words were rushed, and they sounded like they hurt.

“Jack, it’s gonna be okay. You’re gonna have our strength with you and-”

“That’s the problem!” Jack interrupted. “I can’t let you risk your lives for me to fail. I’m not strong enough to keep you safe.”

Dean looked at the boy who was nothing less than a son to him. He was about to go one on one against God and he was worried about  _ them.  _ “Hey. We can take care of ourselves. Don’t worry about us. You have enough on your plate, what with the whole ‘becoming God’ thing.”

Jack stared at him. “How are you okay with that?”

“With what?”

“Me becoming God. I’ve done so many things-”

“Stop that.” 

“Stop what?”

“Stop talking about your mistakes. That’s all they are. Mistakes.”

“Dean I’ve  _ killed innocent people.” _

__ “And you’re still crying about it.” Dean winced. “Shit, sorry. That came out wrong. What I mean is you regret the crap you did. You’d do anything to change it. But that regret? That feeling in the pit of your stomach that never really goes away, that tells you you’ll never deserve anything?  _ That’s  _ what makes us worthy because we can’t change what we’ve done but we—” Dean paused to catch his breath, letting his words sink deep into his bones—“We can let it go.”

Jack nodded slowly. Dean noticed he was shivering. 

“You want to come watch a movie with me? Calm yourself down a bit?”

He nodded again, and soon they were in the Dean Cave.

“Your pick. Anything you want,” Dean said, lounging onto the long couch that had replaced the two recliners. 

“Iron Man?” Jack asked softly. 

Dean laughed. The kid had finally caught up on all the Marvel movies and was not coping with Tony’s death too well. “Yeah, sure. Want to sit here? Or you want space?”

Jack perched next to Dean, close enough to reach, but far enough that Dean got the hint. He kept his arms at his sides and Jack did the same. 

About a third of the way through the movie, Jack’s eyes began to droop. Five minutes later, his head rested on Dean’s lap, completely asleep. Dean shook his head, smiling. After the movie ended, he gently picked Jack up and carried him to his room, laying him on the bed. 

Jack wiggled in his sleep, turning over and grabbing his pillow. A small smile ghosted across his face. He looked so peaceful sleeping there. 

_ He might be God tomorrow, but tonight he’s still my kid.  _


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angsttttt

Jody flicked the lighter and dropped it into the grave. The body burned fast, and the text came faster. “ _ Thanks for the help.” _

__ Jody sighed with relief. “Claire’s alright,” she told Donna.

“Well, of course, she is! That kid of yours is good at what she does!”

“That she is.” Her phone started to ring. She answered.

“Hey, Jody.” Sam and Dean both said. 

She smiled. “Hey, boys, what’s up?” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Donna wave. “Donna says hi.”

“Is she there?”

“Right next to me. She and I are working a case.”

“How’s it going?” Sam asked. He sounded off, and Jody was instantly on high alert. 

“Milk run. Everything okay with you guys?”

Silence, then Dean picked up the conversation. “We have a plan to deal with Chuck but it’s... it’s pretty flimsy.”

Jody’s heart dropped to her shoes. “How flimsy?”

Dean’s voice quavered when he answered. “We’re calling to say goodbye.”

“ _ What? _ ” Donna flashed her a concerned look, but Jody barely noticed. The room spun. 

“We probably won’t make it back. We’ll give it everything we have but... but there’s a good chance this is it.”

Jody tried to think through the buzzing in her ears. “Is there anything I can do? Is there-how can I-“

“No, Jody we got this, okay? It’s going to work. Just-" Sam’s voice snapped like a twig. “We love you.” He whispered. 

Jody wiped her eyes and nodded. “I love you too. Do you want me to tell Donna and the girls?”

“Tell Donna. I don’t want Claire coming after us.” Dean laughed sadly. 

“Alright.”

There was silence on the other end. Jody closed her eyes, trying to hug them through the phone. Trying to tell them they were so brave and good and she would give anything for them to be happy. 

“Okay, we have to go,” Dean said softly. 

“Okay.” Jody murmured. “And boys?”

“Yes?”

“I may not be Mary, but you are my sons.”

“Love you.” They understood. She knew they did. 

“Love you too.”

The line went dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y’all I am so sorry. To everyone who cares about this show as much as I do I offer my sincerest apologies for what canon did to us. We’ve been here for ages and they gave us that dumpster fire of a finale. 
> 
> But let’s be honest. We’ve never given a crap what canon told us. For years we’ve laughed in the faces of people who told us Dean was straight, told us Cas wasn’t in love with him. 
> 
> Here’s to another fifteen years of saying fuck canon, and writing our characters how they deserve to be written.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys go over the plan again

Sam and Dean stared at the just-hung-up phone. 

“You think she’s gonna come after us?” 

Sam shook his head. “She wants to. But she trusts us to do the right thing.”

“Is it?” Dean croaked. “Is it the right thing?”

“It’s the best chance we’ve got,” Sam said. “Thanks, by the way.”

“For what?”

“Letting me do this.”

Dean smiled sadly. “You think I could stop you?”

“You know what I mean. Thanks for agreeing.”

“I hate it but—” he shook his head— “Billie aid it’s our destiny. I don’t want to break any more divine laws right now.”

Sam put a hand on his shoulder. “If we’re going down today, we’re going down fighting.”

“Not quite Butch and Sundance, though. We’re just sitting here, Jack’s doing all the work.”

“Still a blaze of glory,” Sam said, trying to lighten the mood. 

It worked. Dean grinned at him. “Still a blaze of glory.”

Sam heard the bunker door opening. Rowena was here. Her high heels clacked as she walked down the stairs, and Sam rushed over to give her a hug. “Hey, Rowena.”

She folded into his arms. “Hello, Samuel.” He released her and she nodded in his brother’s direction. “Do I not get a hug, Dean?”

He rolled his eyes but ambled over anyway. Sam noticed the big bag in her hand. “Ingredients?”

She shook her head. “Only two ingredients are needed to store souls in a vessel. These are all things to prepare.”

Sam’s stomach dropped. “Wait. This isn’t the same spell-”

“It is.”

Sam gripped the table behind him for support. “ _ What?” _

__ Rowena put up her hands in a placating gesture. “It’s the same spell, but on a much smaller scale, and not going into a living vessel. No one has to die.”

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Okay.”

“Where’s everyone else?” Rowena asked. 

“They’re all in the kitchen. Come on in.” Dean turned to leave. 

“Wait a sec,” Sam said gleefully. “Dean, isn’t there something you need to tell Rowena?”

“There is?” They both asked, Rowena with curiosity and Dean with confusion. Sam just kept grinning until Dean’s eyes widened in understanding. “Bitch.”

“Jerk.”

Rowena was watching them like they were in the middle of a very intense ping pong match. “Is anyone going to tell me?”

Dean suddenly became very interested in the nearest wall. “Yeah, so… ah... CasandImightbetogether.”

“What was that dear? I didn’t quite hear you.” Rowena clearly heard him. She shot Sam a delighted look, which he returned just as giddily. 

“Cas and I are together.” Dean shook his head peevishly, but Sam could see right through the act. He was so excited to finally be able to say those words. 

“Well, it’s about time!” Rowena said. “What are we waiting for?” She hurried in the direction of the kitchen. 

Sam was about to follow when he saw Dean’s face. He looked almost awestruck. “What?”

He recovered quickly, shifting back into a more neutral expression. “Nothing. It’s just- never really thought that would be a conversation I’d have.”

“That’s sweet.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Easy on the drama, Chuckles. I’m still me.”

Sam laughed.  _ There  _ was the brother he knew. 

…

“Are you ready, Sam?” Rowena asked. 

Everyone was gathered around the table in the bunker’s main room. Rowena held the knife. 

“Yeah,” He nodded, “Yeah. Ready.”

Rowena closed her eyes for a moment. Sam did the same, remembering when the roles were reversed. The sick sound the knife made when it pushed into her stomach. 

When he killed her. 

But no one was dying today. At least, not this early. Rowena swiped the blade across the back of his arm as swiftly as she could. He winced but didn’t make a sound. He felt Eileen grab his hand, and then the room filled with light. 

A wisp of smoky blue rose out of everyone but Rowena and Jack. It didn’t feel like much, just an odd tugging sensation, but it was  _ beautiful.  _ The wisps danced about above their heads, before shooting into the sword in Jack’s hand. It glowed blue, then gold, then went dark. 

There was a long silence, then Dean said “did it work?”

Jack nodded. “I can feel them in the sword.” He looked around the room, meeting everyone’s eyes. “Are you  _ sure _ ?”

Cas was the first to say it. “We are, Jack.” 

Everyone agreed. He laid the sword down on the table and threw his arms around Cas, then Dean.

When it was Sam’s turn he held him tight. “You can do this.” He whispered. 

Rowena got a hug, as did Eileen. Jack picked up the sword. 

“Should we go over the plan one more time?” Sam asked, partly because it should be done, partly because he didn’t want Jack to leave.

“I disguise my energy to look like yours, and go to the desert, as far away from people as possible. I tell Chuck to come and face me. He’ll think I’m you and be caught off guard. Then I kill him.” Jack listed. His stoic expression cracked. “If I don’t make it back-”

“You will,” Dean insisted, “You have to.”

Jack nodded, then disappeared.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And so begins the final battle

Jack landed in the middle of the Sahara. The sand shifted around his feet, but for the most part, it held firm. He could see for miles. Nobody around. The heat pressed into him and there wasn’t a single drop of moisture in the air, but it was only discomfort to the nephilim, not a threat. 

He reached deep inside himself, pulling out a bit of power to make his voice sound deep and guttural, like Dean’s. “Chuck! Get your ugly ass down here.”

Nothing happened. He decided to go off-script. “Or are you too much of a coward to face me?”

Chuck materialized in front of him, skipping the usual dramatic entrance. “Hiya Dean. Good to see you!”

Jack let the illusion drop. Chuck paled. “You… I killed you.”

“And now I’m going to return the favor.” He hefted the sword and pointed it at God. 

Chuck pointed at the sword, bravado seemingly recovered. “There he is! I knew I sensed the actual Dean.” He tilted his head. “Sam too. Huh. And is that… it is! Three hunters, an angel, and well… you. Pretty impressive sword you got there, Jack, but it won’t hold them for long.”

“I’m not sure about that. You see, it was a very generous gift from your sister.”

Chuck had an excellent poker face, but Jack saw the panic flash through his eyes. Just as quickly, it disappeared. “Are you sure you want to do this?” He sighed, “why does no one listen to me when I say that?”

Jack answered by stabbing the sword directly at Chuck’s heart. 

A sword appeared in Chuck’s hand, a carbon copy of Jack’s, and he blocked the strike lazily. “Fine. Let’s do this.”

Jack feinted at Chuck’s head, then swung at his leg. It was easily sidestepped. He stabbed and slashed and sliced. Sweat poured down his face. Jack hurled blow after blow, none of them even coming close to landing. His ears rang with the sound of the swords, and he tasted copper. He pulled back, panting. Chuck didn’t even look winded. “Is that the best you-”

Jack sliced a neat line across his abdomen. It wasn’t deep, but it turned red immediately. Red with blood. 

He had made God bleed. 

The easy smile was gone now. Chuck’s eyes glowed with power. He may not have been hurt, but he was  _ mad.  _

…

“Cas, don’t do this,” Dean begged. 

“I’m sorry, Dean. It’s the only way.”

“No, it isn’t. There’s always another way.  _ Don’t-” _

__ But it was too late. 

Cas had played the Draw Four. 

The five of them were sitting around the table, trying to distract their anxious minds with a game of Uno. It was working, for the most part. Dean and Sam were both naturals, having hustled card games for so long, and Eileen wasn’t bad herself. Cas had terrible strategy, but he somehow had all of the good cards. 

Rowena had a few good cards to torture Sam with, and that was all that mattered. She peered at his hand and felt her plan beginning to form. 

“Um, Rowena?” Sam said. 

She hastily pulled her eyes away. “Yes?”

“Keep your eyes on your own cards.”

“Are you accusing me of cheating, Samuel?” She admonished. 

“Only because you are.”

She was about to give a withering retort that would’ve shut him up good when Sam hissed in pain. He grabbed his arm. His bicep had a fresh cut. “Is that what I think it is?” He asked. 

“I have it too,” Dean said. 

Rowena looked around the table. Everyone had it. “Looks like the battle has begun.”

A solemn silence fell over them. Rowena knew she had done all she could. Even though she didn’t have a soul to put into the sword, she had put the spell together. They had  _ all _ done everything they could, and now it was all up to Jack.

“How does this whole ‘soul link’ thing work?” Dean asked. “Is it like a phone? Can I talk to Jack?”

Rowena considered, then answered, “You probably can’t get words through. And even if you could, you wouldn’t want to distract him. If your emotions are powerful enough, however, he may feel them. So try to stay calm.”

“I’m always calm,” Dean mumbled around the fingernail he was chewing on. His other hand tapped a rhythm, surely from some ghastly rock song, onto the table. 

The tapping stopped suddenly as Dean fell out of his chair, doubled over in pain. Rowena jumped to her feet as the others fell too. “What’s happening?” Sam grunted, clutching his stomach.

Rowena tried to put her scrambled thoughts into words. “Jack he… he must be tapping into your souls. Stay calm.”

She stood helplessly as some of the only people she had ever cared about writhed on the ground. “ _ Jack,”  _ she half-whispered, half prayed, “ _ you have to beat him.” _


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ultimate Showdown Time

* * *

Jack barely had time to celebrate drawing first blood when Chuck went on the offensive. He threw a flurry of attacks. Jack dodged the best he could, only getting nicked in the arm. Chuck arced his blade high into the air and brought it down onto the spot Jack had been standing in a heartbeat before. All this and Chuck was only just starting to sweat. 

Jack was another story. He was wheezing, shaking from the effort of constantly moving. His dodges were getting slower, every strike closer to landing. Chuck aimed a blow at his heart. He flung his sword up at the last second, holding the sword in place with his own. He tried to back away, but Chuck was somehow holding him in place. 

The swords slowly got closer to his throat. Chuck flashed a wicked grin. “Aww, you really thought you were going to beat me, didn't you?” His voice was slow poison, sickly sweet, oozing into every exposed weakness. “You thought you would beat me with the  _ power of friendship.  _ You'd go home to your daddies and they would give you a big hug and everything would be okay? You thought you were going to  _ win? _ ” He chuckled, low and menacing. “Well guess what, Jack? You failed. Your friends are going to die, and then the rest of the world, too. All because a little boy wanted to play me. Who do you think you are?”

Chuck always talked too much. That was his problem, he always wanted the story. 

Well, Jack was going to give him one. 

“I am Jack Kline, son of Kelly Kline,” he gasped, “son of Cas and Sam and Dean.

“I am a nephilim, one of the most powerful beings in the universe. I use that power for good because I am  _ not  _ Lucifer.

“I am not what anyone says I am. No one except myself. What everyone says I am doesn’t matter. Only what I do. My mother taught me that. People called her crazy for giving up her life for me, but she was just doing what felt right. 

“I’ve made mistakes, but I am worthy because I try to make them better. I can move on from my past. I learned that from Dean.

“I am every person I have ever hurt, and every person I have ever helped. I am my words and my actions. I am young, but I know what is right and what is wrong. I save people and hunt things. And I will not let you have this world.”

Jack’s eyes glowed with a brilliant yellow light, and he pushed the blades away from his throat, towards Chuck’s. 

“That’s...that’s impossible,” Chuck murmured, “I’m  _ God _ !”

“Not anymore,” Jack said. He dredged up his last bit of power, letting it tell him what to do. His sword turned a fiery gold, and he was thrown backward. He put a hand over his eyes, blinded by the light coming off the sword. There was a wretched shriek and then

Silence. 

All the light was gone. Even the sun had been covered by the moon. 

Jack struggled to his feet, limped over to where his sword had fallen. 

Next to it lied the broken body of a cruel, capricious God, slain by a boy who decided humanity was worth saving. 

Jack sank to his knees, fatigue, and relief fighting for the front spot in his brain. His arms ached and the ring of the clashing blades still sounded through his ears. 

But he was alive. He was alive and he had done it. He picked up the sword, turned his back on Chuck’s crumpled form, and left that place for good. 

…

The pain ceased just as suddenly as it had started. Cas was curled up on the floor, and it took him a second to realize his nerves weren’t on fire anymore. 

“Everyone alright?” Dean asked. 

“Yes,” Cas said, and he heard the others do the same. He stood slowly. “Rowena, what happened?”

Rowena patted her hair, smoothed her dress. “Jack… he must’ve stopped using your strength.”

“Why would he do that?” Dean demanded. 

Cas didn’t want to say what he was thinking.  _ Because he won’t let us get hurt, even if it costs him his life.  _

“Do you think-” Before Sam could finish his question, Jack appeared in the middle of the room. His breaths were ragged and short, and he looked exhausted. 

“Jack,” Cas breathed, “You're alright. What happened?”

“I… I did it.”

“You what?”

He turned to face them. His eyes glowed. He looked shell-shocked. “I won.”

Cas was vaguely aware of Dean grabbing onto Sam for support beside him. Of Eileen laughing, Rowena gaping. He stepped away from the table, almost in a trance. His head felt like it was full of water, rushing and churning and blocking everything out. Everything except Jack. 

The tide in Cas’s head sent a wave of pride coursing through him. Jack had been alive for decades less than all of them, millennia less than himself. 

And he had just saved the  _ world _ . 

Everything came back as he held his arms open, and Jack crashed into them, clinging to him. He could’ve died at that moment and would’ve been perfectly happy. 

In fact? Why  _ wasn’t  _ he dying? He was certainly happier than he had been in many years—

Cas shook the thought out of his mind. It was a good thing he was still alive. Best not to question it. 

“Are you okay?” Cas asked the boy in his arms. 

Jack looked up at him, face cracking into a smile. “I think I am.”


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean reflects

They decided to save their celebration for tomorrow. Right then, none of them could quite believe it was finally over. They all sat around the table, this time with Jack there too, and nursed their beers. It felt like every other night, except the weight on Dean’s shoulders was gone. He was with his family, and they were going to be alright. 

A noise cut through the soft din of voices. Dean jumped, but it was only Cas’s phone. 

He answered, putting the phone on speaker. “Hello, Jody.”

Dean and Sam shared a guilty look. 

“You’re alive, thank god. Are Sam and Dean-”

“We’re right here, Jody,” Dean said, “All of us.”

She was quiet for a long moment, then softly asked, “did it work?”

“Fuck yeah it did,” Dean said. He was grinning like a goddamn kid, but he didn’t care. 

“Oh thank god,” she breathed. Then her voice turned accusatory. “And  _ when  _ were you going to tell me this? There was a damn eclipse out of nowhere and I was so worried about you!”

“Yeah, sorry about that,” Sam said, rubbing his neck, “but everything’s okay. I promise.”

“I knew you could do it.”

Dean felt his heart swell. Jody had always been there for them, and now  _ she _ was going to be okay too. Everyone was going to be okay. Every last one of them were going to be okay. 


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack gives one last gift before he has to leave

They had just gotten off the phone with Jody when Billie appeared, Amara right behind her. “I hate to interrupt the celebration,” Billie said, “but we have a God to make. Are you ready, Jack?”

Jack closed his eyes, then opened them. “Yes.”

Amara and Billie began speaking in a language that sounded older than time itself. A brilliant, holy light wound around Jack. The voices continued, getting louder and louder. The light got brighter and brighter until Dean thought both his eyes and ears were going to combust. It reached a crescendo and then dropped away like a switch being flicked. 

Dean opened his eyes warily and saw Jack. He looked almost the same, but there was a new light in his eyes. The smile he wore seemed older. Not in the condescending way Chuck’s had been, but almost like that of a grandparent, looking at his progeny. It was kind, and Dean knew instantly that they had made the right choice. 

“How do you feel?” He asked. 

Jack nodded. “I feel... good.”

“Now,” Amara said, “Jack and I are going to go on a little vacation. There is much to learn about being God, after all.”

Sam cleared his throat. Dean realized he looked almost panicked. “How long is a vacation for immortals?”

_ Shit _ . Were they ever going to see their kid again?

“A week. The cosmos were built in seven days, teaching a new caretaker shouldn’t take longer than that.” 

Dean sighed in relief and noticed Jack doing the same. Then his eyes widened, and he mumbled something to Amara. She considered, then nodded. 

Jack stepped forward. “Before I go, I want to do one thing.

“For my first act as God, I want to give the angels their wings back, starting with you, Cas.”

Dean swelled with pride. His kid was the president of the universe and his first thought was still his family. 

Cas’s mouth hung open. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. As long as you want them.”

“I do,” Cas rushed. Dean had never seen him so excited. 

Jack beckoned him over. He closed his eyes and laid a hand on Cas’s forehead. An unending second passed, then his eyes opened again. “There.”

Cas stepped back, exhaled, and unfurled his wings. 

Dean gasped aloud when he saw. Instead of the shadow on the wall, where they always were, the wings were actual physical things attached to Cas’s body.

And they were  _ beautiful _ . 

They stretched across the room, each almost three times the length of Cas’s body. The feathers were a cool black with constellations of sandy yellow near his shoulders. Cas spread them as far as they could go, then curled them around himself, holding them close. “Thank you,” he breathed. 

“Of course,” Jack grinned. “And if you don’t want to terrify the other humans, you can just tuck them in and no one will be able to see them.”

If it was possible to be even prouder of that goddamn kid, Dean certainly was. He had thought of everything. His voice wobbled when he started talking. “Don’t forget about us, okay? Come back and visit once in a while.”

Jack looked at him like he had five heads. “Of course I’ll visit. You’re my family.”


	21. 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fluff!

“What’re you thinking about over there?” Dean asked Cas, who had a funny look on his face. 

“It’s a surprise,” he answered. 

“What kind of surprise?”

“I have my wings now. I can take us all anywhere we want to go.”

“Not quite an answer, babe.”

Sam rolled his eyes internally. It had been less than a week, and every ‘buddy’ or ‘man’ had already turned into some loving pet name. He was happy for them, but  _ wow _ . 

“Do you trust me?” Cas asked, still not answering. 

“‘Course,” Dean drummed on the table, “So are we going to this mystery place now, or-”

Sam fell to the ground as the world changed around them. The chair under him -along with the rest of the bunker- was gone. In its place was a beach. A postcard-worthy, palm trees, and cool breeze, honest to god  _ beach _ . 

He turned to Cas. “Is this Hawaii?”

“Yes. Kauapea Beach, more specifically.”

As he admired the landscape, Sam noticed someone was missing. “What about Eileen?” 

“I asked her if she wanted to come last night. She said thanks for the offer, but she wanted to sleep for a week first.” Cas quoted, throwing random air quotes around every other word. 

Sam chuckled. “Fair enough.”

Cas pointed to three beach chairs set up in a semicircle. “I set us up a spot over here.”

They settled in, kicking off their shoes and socks. The chair was surprisingly comfortable, and it even had a little umbrella drink in the cupholder. Sam smiled as a memory hit him. “Toes in the sand.”

“Huh?” Dean took a sip of his drink. His eyes widened, then he continued drinking with gusto. 

“Remember? You said when everything is all over, we would go to the beach. You, me, and Cas.” Somehow, Cas had gotten it perfect without even knowing. 

Dean smiled, nostalgia in his eyes. “We did it, Sammy. We saved the world.”

There were so many things to say to his brother, but really? Dean knew all of them already. So all Sam said was, “I’ll drink to that.”

They clinked their glasses and Sam was home. 

Cas had been silent through their conversation, and he stayed silent now. He seemed content to stare at Dean like he was every star in the sky. Dean caught his gaze and stared back. 

“Alright.” Sam stood up, patting Dean on the shoulder. “I’m going for a walk. You two have  _ fun _ .”

Dean gave him a bitchface almost as potent as one of his own, but Sam knew he would thank him later. 

...

Dean watched his brother amble down the beach. He was a cocky bastard, but Dean would have to, begrudgingly, thank him later. For now, he sat on an awesome beach with his awesome boyfriend. “Thank you,” he said. 

“For what?”

“For this.” Dean gestured to, well, everything. “All of this.”

“I love you, Dean Winchester.”

The way he said it, all earnest and solemn, turned Dean into a heart-eyed mess. Seriously, the guy had no right to do that to him. Dean had saved the world too many times to be reduced to a puddle by three words. 

But a puddle he was. And he wouldn’t change it for the world. He grabbed Cas’s hand, twined their fingers together. 

“I love you too.”


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remember that deal?

“I love you too.”

Cas closed his eyes and smiled, feeling the sun’s warmth on his face. Maybe everything was going to be okay after all. 

“Cas? What’s happening?” Dean sounded panicked. Cas opened his eyes to Dean’s frantic face looming over him. He was still holding his hand, and that’s when Cas saw what was wrong. 

The hand Dean was holding had a hole in it. A hole that was growing. 

“Babe, hey, hey what‘s happening?”

He stared at his hand. The hole was getting bigger, pieces of him drifting away into the air, leaving only light behind. 

All at once, Cas understood. 

The Empty had promised to take him when he was happy. He hadn’t worried. He knew happiness was far out of reach. 

But he had reached it. It was time. 

Cas stood shakily. “It’s okay,” he reassured. 

Dean shook his head, breathing heavily. “ _ What _ ? No, it’s not okay. What- what do I do?”

He put a hand on Dean’s cheek. Dean unconsciously leaned into it. Cas didn’t have much time, and he had to make him understand. “Listen to me. It’s okay. It’s not your fault, it’s mine.”

“What’s not my fault?” Dean stared in horror at Cas’s chest. Cas looked down. It was riddled with holes. 

“Ask Jack. He can tell you. I love you, Dean, more than you’ll ever know.” Cas wasn’t scared of dying. He wasn’t scared of the peaceful sleep he was about to fall into. 

No, Cas wasn’t scared. He was  _ heartbroken _ . 

They had just saved the world. His family was finally happy. They had been through _ so much _ and they had barely gotten a chance to breathe and now this was happening. 

Dean cradled Cas’s face in his hands. “You aren’t dying on me. Not now, not ever. Fight it.” At that moment, Cas was grateful for his imminent death. At least then he wouldn’t have to remember the look on Dean’s face. The tears rolling down his cheeks. “We just  _ won _ , Cas, you can’t die now goddammit we  _ won _ !” 

Cas closed his eyes. Tried to picture Dean’s face from five minutes ago. The face of a man who hadn’t had a reason to smile in so long, and now that he did would do it every chance he got. 

Yes. That would be a good last thought.

“Goodbye, Dean.”

Dean’s protests, the soft breeze, the whispering waves, all of it came undone, like a favorite sweater worn one too many times. 

The warmth was gone.

…

Dean stared at his empty hands, at the spot where Cas had been seconds before. His last words echoed in his ears. 

“ _ Goodbye, Dean _ .”

He had  _ known _ what was happening, he had seemed resigned to it. He knew that look. He had worn it, Sam had worn-

Dean’s blood went cold. 

_ Sam _ . 

“Sam,” he whispered, then tried again, “SAM? SAMMY!”

Nothing. Dean put his face in his hands. Cas was gone and his brother was gone and-

“Dean?”

He looked up. Sam was standing at the edge of the clearing. He broke into a run when he saw him. 

Dean’s knees buckled in relief. Sam caught him just in time, and slowly lowered him to the ground. “Dean, what the hell? What’s wrong?”

Dean couldn’t catch his breath. “I- I thought you-“ he trailed off, unable to continue. 

Sam shook his shoulders gently. “Thought I what? Dean, you have to snap out...” He stopped shaking him. “Where’s Cas?”

“Gone,” Dean whispered,

“ _ He’s gone _ .”

…

“What do you mean, gone?” Sam asked. Dean was an absolute mess. He was hyperventilating and his eyes were wild. “Hey. Breathe. Tell me what happened.”

“We were… we were talking and he just- he started to disappear. Not like he teleported like he was  _ taken.  _ And then he was gone and he  _ knew  _ what was going on but he didn’t  _ do _ anything.”

Sam scrambled for something to do to help his brother. Part of him couldn't believe anything he was saying. They had finished the fight. 

But his disbelief didn’t change the fact that Cas was missing. “Did he- did he say anything?”

“A lot of things.” He sat up straight, letting go of Sam’s arm. “Jack. He said to ask Jack.”

Sam closed his eyes.  _ Jack,  _ he thought,  _ I know you're busy with God stuff but we need you. Cas just disappeared and we don’t know what’s going on but he said you would. Please- _

__ “What do you mean, disappeared?” 

Sam nearly jumped out of his skin. Jack had appeared in front of him and Dean.

“He just… came apart and drifted away.” Dean raised his arm, asking Sam to help him up. Sam pulled him up and he stood almost suffocatingly close. Sam resisted the urge to wrap an arm around his shoulders. Dean was clearly in shock, but there was something else there too. 

“Okay,” Jack’s voice was shaky, “he said I’d know what happened. What else did he say?”

“He said it wasn’t my fault and it would be okay and-” Dean swallowed hard, “he said goodbye.”

That was when Sam realized something was truly, horribly wrong. Something had happened to Cas. Something bad. 

Jack snapped his fingers, and they were all back in the bunker. 

Eileen was sitting at the table, drinking a cup of coffee. She yelped when she saw them, then grinned. “Back already? I thought you-” her smile disappeared. “What’s wrong?”

“Jack, why are we here?” Sam asked. 

“Without Cas, you would’ve been stuck,” he said absently, “this shouldn't have happened yet.”

“Dammit Jack,  _ what  _ shouldn’t have happened?” Dean was always queasy after he teleported, but he looked even more so now. 

Jack took a deep breath. “Cas is in the Empty.”

He explained how Cas had made a deal to save his life, a deal the Empty would only collect once Cas had found happiness. He had tried to talk him out of it, but Cas wouldn't listen. “He wouldn’t let me tell you,” Jack finished, “he didn’t want you to worry.”

The deja vu Sam felt was crippling. If he hadn’t found out, Dean would’ve dropped himself into the ocean without a goodbye because he didn’t want Sam to worry or talk him out of it. “Can you get him back?” he asked. He couldn’t shake the feeling of the world dropping out from under him. 

Jack shook his head miserably. “I’m powerless in the Empty.”

Dean seemed as desperate as Sam felt. “But you woke him up last time. Couldn’t you just do that again?”

“That was different. I wasn’t God when I did that. And…” Jack ran a hand over his face, and Sam was flooded with love for the boy who had to carry the world on his back. “I don’t know. Something’s… different now.”

“Different how?”

Jack was helpless to answer, but someone interrupted before he had to. 

“I can help.”

_ Billie? _

__ Death herself had appeared before them, offering to help them with a task that in the grand scheme of things didn’t matter. 

_ What the hell? _

__ Dean said what Sam was thinking. “Why would you help us?”

Billie rolled her eyes as if the answer was obvious. “Castiel is awake in the Empty.”

“Great!” Dean said. “So he’ll be beamed down again soon?” The hope in his voice was a broken thing, yet still grasping at any chance it could get. Sam couldn't help hoping too. 

Billie shook her head and Sam felt the hope wither. “He’s awake because the Empty wants him to be. It’s keeping him awake to torture him. As much as I would love to let him suffer, that isn’t how this is supposed to go.”

Sam was so caught up in the horror of what Cas must be going through, he almost missed Amara materializing next to her. “I’ll help too. I suppose I owe you for killing my brother.”

Dean clapped his hands together. “Alright. Let’s go.”

“Go where?” Billie asked. 

The look on Dean’s face was one Sam had seen hundreds, maybe thousands of times. It was the look of a hero. “To the Empty.” 

The look on  _ Billie’s _ face was that of a very impatient parent. “No.”

“What? Why?”

“The Empty is not accessible to humans. Even if I took you there, your brains would most likely implode. Mortals aren’t supposed to look upon something so ancient.”

“So what do we do?” Sam asked. 

Jack stepped forward. “We bring it to us. Its physical form, anyway. I know it can hear me, so I’ll keep calling to it, keeping it awake.”

“Can you do that?” 

“I can try.”

And suddenly, the hope was back.

Dean nodded. “Alright, what do you need us to do?”

“Get some rest.“ Jack said. Sam was going to protest, but he continued speaking. “There’s nothing for you to do yet, and I need you all at full strength in case this works.”

“But Cas needs us  _ now.” _

__ Billie shrugged. “He’s not going anywhere.”

Dean stuck out his jaw. His eyes flicked to Sam, and he didn’t say anything, but after a lifetime of fighting together, he could read the look just fine. 

“ _ What’s the play here?” _

__ Sam nodded, raising his shoulders slightly, then pointed his chin back at his brother.  _ “I think they’re right, but your call.” _

__ “Fine,” Dean forced the word through his teeth. He snatched his beer from the table and turned away, throwing a “going to bed” over his shoulder. Sam wanted to go after him, but couldn’t find a single word to say. 


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here’s some angst for your troubles

Dean closed the bedroom door behind him and rested his head on the cool wood. He felt his shoulders slump, his stony expression twist into despair. They had finally had everything, and it lasted a goddamn day. 

“Of freakin’ course,” he muttered, knocking his head against the door with each word. It hurt more than he had intended. 

As he turned to the bed, the beer in his hand knocked against the wall. The sound startled him, and he dropped it like it was a bomb. Beer dribbled onto the floor, soaking the carpet. “ _ Shit.”  _ He pulled a shirt off the bed and tried to sop it up, but it had already sunk deep into the carpet. He couldn’t fix it now. It was too late. Maybe he could’ve fixed it if he had reacted faster, but now he would have to deep clean the whole carpet and even that might not get the stain out. 

He picked up the offending bottle, now empty. His warped reflection stared back at him, and he watched his expression morph from frustration to a boiling rage that wanted nothing more than to claw its way out of his throat. 

He hurled the bottle against the wall. 

It shattered, shards scattering around the room. The noise settled deep in his bones. It felt like unhealthy coping mechanisms and long nights of self-loathing. 

It felt like home _.  _

Or at least close enough to home that he wanted nothing more than to come back to. Back to a time where there was some semblance of normalcy. 

“How could he be so  _ stupid?”  _ Dean muttered furiously. He grabbed a lamp by the neck and shoved it off the table. It crashed to the ground. He picked up a bottle that was next to his bed and swung it into the wall and the glass coated his hand in scratches but he didn’t care. He didn’t care about anything but the sick satisfaction he got from the destruction. If Cas had been there he would've socked him in the mouth without a second thought. Hell, he would’ve loved the chance to punch his idiotic, self-sacrificing face. “We could’ve  _ fixed  _ this if you had just fucking  _ said  _ something!”

He stopped. He stood in the middle of the room, fists clenched, breaths labored. His nose was filled with the stench of beer mingling with blood. It was one he had smelled many times before and all of a sudden he  _ hated  _ it. Hated how he knew it was fresh blood by smell alone. Hated how he knew the brand of beer he was smelling, could almost taste it on his tongue. Hated the job that made him grow used to it. Hated every  _ goddamn _ thing about his life; a life that put everyone he loved in danger, no matter what he did to keep them safe. 

He sat on the floor, not caring about the sharp glass or the wet beer or anything. It was too late now. “How could you do this to me?” He whispered.

_ Nice going, Winchester. Way to make it about you.  _

__ But it  _ was  _ about him, at least partly. Why hadn’t he seen something was wrong? Cas had understood every single quirk, every emotion that ran across Dean’s face so why hadn’t Dean done the same? Why-

His train of thought was interrupted by Sam bursting through the door, gun in hand. 

Dean threw his hands in the air. He was too tired to fake a smile. All he said was “It’s just me, Sammy.”

Sam snapped his head back and forth, still assessing for danger. Once Dean’s words sunk in, he lowered the gun. “I thought-”

Then he noticed the state of the room. His mouth opened slightly as he saw the shattered glass, the broken lamp. “You alright?”

Part of Dean was screaming to tell the truth. To say  _ no  _ he wasn’t alright at  _ all.  _ It was a part that had been getting a lot more use recently, and it startled him with its ferocity. He decided to try and compromise with it. “I will be.” He didn’t have to say the second part of the sentence. His brother understood. He offered a hand and Dean took it gratefully, then snatched it back, wincing. He hadn’t felt the pain from the cuts he had gotten until now, but they hurt like a bitch. 

“What happened?” Sam asked him. 

“Got into a fistfight with a beer bottle. You should see the other guy.”

Sam gave him a pitying look but didn’t press further. Dean was glad for that. He didn’t think he could survive an argument right then. “I’ll get Jack to heal it for you.” He turned to leave, then paused and turned back. “Dean?”

“Yup?”

“We’re going to get him back.”

He looked so confident, sounded so assured, that for a second Dean almost believed him. 

…

Jack was sitting crosslegged on his bed, eyes closed. After a great deal of thought, he finally knew what to say. He altered his voice so it dripped with divine power, then said, “I am giving you one chance to give him back peacefully.”

Nothing. Not a sound beyond the hum of the lights and the pounding of his own heart. 

“I know you can hear me.  _ You  _ should know I won’t let you rest until you give him back. You will stay awake for as long as I live, and I am going to live for a  _ very  _ long time.” His voice echoed and Jack marveled at the power running through it. 

A black, viscous substance seemed to pour over the inside of Jack’s eyelids. He jolted them open but it was still there, rendering him blind. A voice pounded through his head, neither high nor low, neither loud nor soft. Its one defining quality was it was positively oozing with a menace that coated Jack’s lungs, suffocating him. 

“This is a  _ very  _ unwise decision you’re making, here.”

“I could say the same to you,” Jack choked. 

“The godling is playing with power so infinitely beyond it, it’s almost funny. You can’t touch me in my realm.”

The blackness pressed in from every direction. Jack scrubbed at his eyes but nothing changed. He forced himself to smother the panic growing like a tumor inside of him. 

_ My family needs me.  _

“I don’t need to. I only need to keep talking.”

A noise throbbed from everywhere and nowhere. It sounded like the hacking cough of a tired old man. Not one on his deathbed, but one who knew death was unbearably far. It was awful and it took Jack a second to realize it was a  _ laugh _ .

__ “This mistake of yours will not be without consequences, oh no, no, no. I already had much planned for your angel, but now? Oh, it’s going to be  _ so  _ much worse.” There was sheer, childlike  _ glee  _ in the thing’s voice and it sickened Jack to his very core. “You are never going to see your Castiel again.”

And suddenly, Jack could see again. His eyes hungrily took in the room around him. It was the same as it had always been, but the colors seemed brighter.

The Empty’s last words still echoed through him. 

_ This mistake of yours… _

_ So much worse… _

_ You are never going to see your Castiel again. _

Had he made everything worse? He had thought this was the perfect plan, not to mention the only one. He had thought no one could get hurt, and the Empty would just eventually give up. But now Cas was in even more danger because of him. Jack put his head in his hands, and it was still there when Sam knocked on the door. “Jack?”

Jack wiped his eyes. “Yes?”

Sam opened the door. “Dean cut his hand, would you mind healing it?”

“Of course.” Jack got off the bed, then paused. “Sam, are you sure we’re doing the right thing?”

Sam sighed. “The Empty didn't answer, huh?”

“Actually the opposite.”

“What?”

“It told me I made things worse for Cas. Now it's going to hurt him even more. Because of  _ me.”  _ His voice shook with emotion. “I’m God now. I can’t afford to make mistakes.”

“You didn’t make-”

“But you don’t know that! We don’t know anything about it!” 

“You’re right,” Sam said, “but I do know monsters. I’ve been hunting things for a long time now, and if I’ve learned anything, it’s that the hardest ones to beat are the ones that get in your head. They make you think you can’t do anything right and then you’re so scared to mess up you don’t do anything.” 

Jack considered. “You think it was bluffing?”

“I think we can only control our side. The sooner we get him back, the better.” Jack deflated at Sam’s words. “Hey, I’m sorry. It’s not fair to ask this of you. You just killed  _ Chuck, _ you deserve a break more than any of us, but-”

“But Cas needs me. It’s okay. I can do this.” Jack nodded, trying to convince himself. “You said Dean needed healing?”

Sam blinked, then nodded. “Yeah. Don’t ask him what happened. He’s not really in the mood to chat.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shoutout to anyone actually reading this ily and I hope you get everything you want in life

**Author's Note:**

> Title of the fic is taken from a song called speaking of the end by låpsley. Check it out, it’s awesome.


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